Хусерл- критика на психилогизма: One main train of thought centers on the three empiricist consequences of psychologism. They can be reconstructed as follows: First Consequence: If logical rules were based upon psychological laws, then all logical rules would have to be as vague as the underlying psychological laws. Refutation: Not all logical rules are vague. And therefore not all logical rules are based upon psychological laws. (§21). Second Consequence: If laws of logic were psychological laws, then they could not be known a priori. They would be more or less probable rather than Valid, and justified only by reference to experience. Refutation: Laws of logic are a priori, they are justified by apodictic self-evidence, and valid rather than probable. And therefore laws of logic are not psychological (§21). Third Consequence: If logical laws were psychological laws, they would refer to psychological entities. Refutation: Logical laws do not refer to psychological entities. And therefore logical laws are not psychological laws (§23) ; Husserl also claims that psychologism fails to do justice to the idea that truths are eternal. It is precisely because truths are eternal that logical laws cannot be laws about states of affairs (be they mental or physical). The fundamental mistake of pscyhologism is that it does not distinguish correctly between the object of knowledge and the act of knowing. Whereas the act is a psychical process that elapses in time and that has a beginning and an end, this does not hold true for the logical principles or mathematical truths that are known (Hua 24/141). When one speaks of a law of logic or refers to mathematical truths, to theories, principles, sentences, and proofs, one does not refer to a subjective experience with a temporal duration, but to something atemporal, objective and eternally valid. Although the principles of logic are grasped and known by consciousness, we remain conscious of something ideal that is irreducible to and utterly different from the real psychical acts of knowing…Regardless of how frequently one repeats the theorem of Pythagoras, regardless of whom it is that thinks it, or where and when it happens, it will remain identically the same, although the concrete act of meaning will change in each case (Hua 19/49,97-98) But this is not true just in case of the abstract objects. It shouldn’t be thought that is true just for the case of the abstract (or purely logical, depends who you ask) entities like in mathematics…The very possibility of repeating the same meaning in numerically different acts is in itself a sufficient argument to refute psychologism as a confusion of ideality and reality. If ideality were really reducible to or susceptible to the influence of the temporal, real, and subjective nature of the psychical act, it would be impossible to repeat or share meaning, just as it is impossible to repeat a concrete psychical act the moment it has occurred, not to speak of sharing it with others. But if this really were the case, scientific knowledge as well as ordinary communication and understanding would be impossible. (Hua 18/194)- интенционалност: Интенционалните обекти не са иманентни на познавателния акт. Те са дадени в него като трансцендентни. Логическите закони не се отнасят до познавателни актове и техните връзки, а до идеалните връзки на иманите в тях предвид значения и истини. С това те са надисторически. The two assertions ‘2 x 2 = 4’ and ‘Ibsen is the principal founder of modern dramatic realism’, are both, qua assertions, of one kind; each is qualified as an assertion, and their common feature is their judgment-quality. The one, however, judges one content and the other another content. To distinguish such ‘contents’ from other notions of ‘content’ we shall speak here of the matter (material) of judgment. We shall draw similar distinctions between quality and

matter in the case of all acts (LI, V § 20, p. 586). An additional notion in the Investigations, which grows in importance in Husserl’s later work and will be discussed here, is the act-character. Husserl views act-quality, act-matter and act-character as mutually dependent constituents of a concrete particular thought. Just as there cannot be color without saturation, brightness and hue, so for Husserl there cannot be an intentional act without quality, matter and character. The quality of an act (called ‘intentional act’ above) is the kind of act that it is, whether perceiving, imagining, judging, wishing, and so fotrth. The matter of an act is what has been called above its intentional content, it is the mode or way in which an object is thought about, for example a house intended from one perspective rather than another, or Napoleon thought of first as “the victor at Jena”, then as “the vanquished at Waterloo”. The character of an act can be thought of as a contribution of the act-quality that is reflected in the act-matter. Act-character has to do with whether the content of the act, the act-matter, is posited as existing or as merely thought about and with whether the act-matter is taken as given with evidence (fulfillment) or without evidence (emptily intended).- идеация/епохе: Идеацията е преход от конкретното към наглед за неговата същност (ейдос). Постигането на ейдоса не е свързан с безкрайност от съзерцавани положения, а с удържането на вариантите. Ейдосът се постига в пасивен и активен стадии: пасивно се предпоставя идентичността в удържането, което е основа за активното съзерцание на ейдоса. phenomenology wishes to concern itself with essences, and cannot be entirely content with the Natural Attitude, which it seeks to alter. Here enters the concept of ideation, or the Eidetic seizing-on of what would be passed over in the Natural Attitude. Ideation gets after what is invariant in experiences, that is, the essential half of the fact/essence combination. Of course, as we have noted several times, fact and essence are inseperable, but this doesn’t stop the phenomenologist from an essential preoccupation. So, in looking at my computer, I as a phenomenologist will pursue that which makes this “this-here” a computer, that is, the essential, invariant eidetic aspects of this experience that produce “computer-ness.” I will not content myself with the simple proposition: “This fact is a computer.” The latter proposition exists in the Natural Attitude, and is an example of the purely quotidian reality of that standpoint. This discussion is aided by the second concept discussed in class, that of the epoché. Problems have consistently arisen in class regarding false perceptions, for example that of seeing a mannaquin and mistaking it for a human. The phenomenologist on the eidetic trail isn’t troubled by this case of mistaken identity, because, as Husserl points out, the accuracy of the one experience will ultimately be confirmed/denied by another, equally factical/essential experience to come. This is essentially a result of the epoché. What lies outside of immediate lived experience is set aside, this means “all theories and sciences…which relate” to spacio-temporal existence. It is important to note, as Husserl does, and as we did in class, that in no way is the epoché an act of scepticism or sophism; the existence of the world “the way it is” is never doubted. Rather, everything that is other than that which immediately presents itself to the phenomenologist is set aside, spared from any judgement. If one experience is evidently mistaken, it cannot be both mistaken and taken for true at once, and its truth will reveal itself in another, equally “valid” experience.- редукция и естествена нагласа, съзнание и свят: Естествените науки се развиват в естествената нагласа. За късния Хусерл ейдетическата редукция попада

в естествената нагласа и е недостатъчна, установява се трансцендентално-феноменологическата редукция. Обективното битие не е дадено; познавателните актове разкриват предмети, но не гарантират за тяхното съществуване извън съзнанието. Заскобени са битийните полагания на трансцендентност (аз, бог, природа), така се стига до чисти феномени (трансцедентален опит). Интенционалните предмети се конституират в съзнанието. Конституцията е дадена наведнъж, докато обектът е подложим на оптична заблуда, но изследването на корелациите между формите на съзнание и видовете предметност е обектът на трансценденталната феноменология. Husserl borowed the notion of intentionality from Brentano in order to explain the intentional structure of all consciousness. By intentionality he meant that all our thinking, feeling, and acting are always about things in the world. Husserl’s epistemological insight is that there is no such distinction between consciousness and object, as had been assumed by Descartes and subsequently taken up in a slightly different form by Kant. In Husserl’s thought, the terms “noesis” and “noema” do not so much identify distinct items set over against each other (e.g. consciousness and object) as much as they provide a linguistic vehicle to speak about the interpenetration of each by the other as aspects of a more inclusive whole, the Life-world—understood in its broadest sense. A key point made by Fink in his article for the neo-Kantians is that when we think of the world, it is always a world already containing us thinking it ; all consciousness is consciousness of something; and it is this insight that establishes the relationship between the noesis and noema. If knowledge is ever to be established at all, it must be established in consciousness; the epistemological problem, then, for Husserl is to describe consciousness, since without consciousness, no knowledge is possible. Or, to put a more Kantian spin on it, consciousness itself is the condition for the possibility of knowledge. Furthermore, since we are always already in a world, the first task of epistemology is to properly and accurately describe what is already the case; and we can do this only if we begin with a thorough examination of consciousness itself and carry that examination all the way back to the “I” in the “I Am.” Husserl speaks of going “back” [ruckfrage] because we must begin where we are; and where we are includes a sense of self whose identity is temporarily seated in the sedimented layers of consciousness built up through our temporal experiences. Hence, if we are to encounter the “I” we must dig back down through those layers or we must continually present ourselves with the question: who is “I”? as we consider the great variety of things with which we have identified. This questioning back is the method of the phenomenological reduction and aims to lay bare the “I”—the condition for the possibility of knowledge. “epoché and the action of the reduction proper are the two internal basic moments of the phenomenological reduction, mutually required and mutually conditioned” (p.41). This passage alerts us to the fact that the locution, phenomenological reduction, denotes two separate “moments,” each of which requires and conditions the other. “This self consciousness develops in that the onlooker that comes to himself in the epoché reduces ‘bracketed’ human immanence by explicit inquiry back behind the acceptednesses in self-apperception that hold regarding humanness, that is, regarding one’s belonging to the world; and thus he lays bare transcendental experiential life and the transcendental having of the world” (p.40). Husserl has referred to this variously as “bracketing” or “putting out of action” but it boils down to the same thing, we must somehow come to see ourselves as no longer of

this world, where “this world” means to capture all that we currently accept. withdrawal of belief in the world is not a denial of the world. It should not be considered that the abstention of belief in the world’s existence is the same as the denial of its existence; indeed, the whole point of the epoché is that it is neither an affirmation nor a denial in the existence of the world. The second moment of the phenomenological reduction is what Fink terms the “reduction proper;” he says, “under the concept of ‘action of reduction proper’ we can understand all the transcendental insights in which we blast open captivation-in-an-acceptedness and first recognize the acceptedness as an acceptedness in the first place” (p.41). If the epoché is the name for whatever method we use to free ourselves from the captivity of the unquestioned acceptance of the everyday world, then the reduction is the recognition of that acceptance as an acceptance. Fink adds, “abstention from belief can only be radical and universal when that which falls under disconnection by the epoché comes to be clearly seen precisely as a belief-construct, as an acceptedness.” In whatever way we may be conscious of the world as universal horizon, as coherent universe of existing objects, we, each “I-the-man” and all of us together, belong to the world as living with one another in the world; and the world is our world, valid for our consciousness as existing precisely through this 'living together.' We, as living in wakeful world-consciousness, are constantly active on the basis of our passive having of the world... Obviously this is true not only for me, the individual ego; rather we, in living together, have the world pre-given in this together, belong, the world as world for all, pre-given with this ontic meaning... The we-subjectivity... [is] constantly functioning. Even if a person's historicity is intimately tied up with his lifeworld, and each person thus has a lifeworld, this doesn't necessarily mean that the lifeworld is a purely individual phenomenon. In keeping with the phenomenological notion of intersubjectivity, the lifeworld can be intersubjective even though each individual necessarily carries his own "personal" lifeworld ("homeworld"); meaning is intersubjectively accessible, and can be communicated (shared by one's "homecomrades"). The 'lifeworld' is a grand theatre of objects variously arranged in space and time relative to perceiving subjects, is already-always there, and is the “ground” for all shared human experience. The lifeworld can be thought of as the horizon of all our experiences, in the sense that it is that background on which all things appear as themselves and meaningful. The lifeworld cannot, however, be understood in a purely static manner; it isn't an unchangeable background, but rather a dynamic horizon in which we live, and which "lives with us" in the sense that nothing can appear in our lifeworld except as lived.- ноеза и ноема: relationship between the noesis (intentional acts) and the noemata (their objects). In Ideas it is noemata themselves that are the objects of intentional thought, that are graspable and repeatable and that, according to Husserl, are not parts of the intentional acts of conscious subjects. It is a point of interpretative and philosophical contention whether the noema, as Husserl understood it, is better viewed as a sort of abstract Fregean sense that mediates between the subjective noetic acts of individual thinkers and the objective referents of their thoughts (Føllesdal 1982, Smith and McIntyre 1982), or whether the noema is better seen as the object of intentional thought itself as viewed from a particular perspective (Drummond 1990). to be conscious of an object is not just to be conscious of something under one description or way of viewing it, but it is also to be conscious of the object as an identity of its own, one that is simultaneously

given through discrete noematic perspectives or experiences, but is also more than what any one of these experiences presents it as being. When Husserl says that there is a noematic “core” or underlying “X” in the noema, what he means is that when we think of an object we always think of it as an entity with its own identity as well as an object as it appears to us or is thought of by us. Related to this point, Husserl maintains that the intention of an object via a certain noema at one moment involves, not only intending the object as it is currently experienced, but also contains a third element consisting of pointing references to a “horizon” of further possible determinations of the object, to further noemata or ways of being directed to one and the same object that are either motivated by or consistent with the way in which the current intention presents that object. The structure of the noema is thus quite complex, consisting of a noematic core, some descriptive or presentational content, and a horizon containing pointing references to other possible ways (noemata) of experiencing one and the same identical object Thus, in the example of the barn already discussed, a subject might begin by looking at it from the front and focusing on its color. This would be the first noema intending the very object X, the barn perceptually before one, as red. The subject could then go on to have further perceptual intentions of the barn by walking around it. Each time the subject shifts her perspective on or reconceptualizes the object of her thought, she entertains a new content or noema, a new possible way in which the barn can be experienced as being. If the barn is indeed the way she conceptualizes and experiences it, then that thought, that possibility is fulfilled by her ongoing experience. At each step the subject integrates her current experience with the previous one, identifying the X at the core of the current experience with the X at the core of the previous ones, and is at the same time directed toward new possible ways of filling out her experience of the barn in the horizon of the noema.

Франкфуртска школа (етапи в развитието на критическата теория)Основана и спонсорирана от Феликс Вейл група, стремяща се да разреши, измежду други, проблема практика-теория в социален план, тоест да изясни дейността на авторитарното. Първите повлияли школата текстове са тези на Бенямин и Лукач. Критическата теория се занимава основно с културата. The philosophical tradition now referred to as the "Frankfurt School" is perhaps particularly associated with Max Horkheimer (philosopher, sociologist and social psychologist), who took over as the institute's director in 1930 and recruited many of the school's most talented theorists, including Theodor W. Adorno (philosopher, sociologist, musicologist), Erich Fromm (psychoanalyst), and Herbert Marcuse (philosopher). Късния период на школата включва Хабермас. Основните текстове в периода, който бихме могли да наречем „златен”, интегрират психоанализа, социология и диалектическо мислене в критика на авторитарната личност. Първите текстове на Маркузе, Хоркхаймер и Адорно се занимават именно с емпирични изследвания на феномена. „Диалектика на просвещението” е издадена през 1944: The problems posed by the rise of fascism with the demise of the liberal state and the market (together with the failure of a social revolution to materialize in its wake), constitute the theoretical and historical perspective that frames the overall argument of the book – the two theses that “Myth is already enlightenment, and enlightenment reverts to mythology.”[6] The history of human societies, as well as that of the formation of individual ego or self, is re-evaluated from the standpoint of what Horkheimer and Adorno perceived at the time as the ultimate outcome of this history: the collapse or “regression” of reason, with the rise of National Socialism, into something resembling the very forms of superstition and myth out of which reason had supposedly emerged as a result of historical progress or development. Разглеждат се възможни подходи към съпротивата на авторитарното мислене през протести, изкуство, теория и т.н. През 1955 излиза Ерос и цивилизация: Marcuse starts with the conflict described by Freud in Civilization and Its Discontents - the struggle between human instincts and the conscience of repression (superego), which is self-repressing trying to follow the society's mores and norms. Freud claimed that a clash between Eros and civilization results in the history of humanity being one of his repression: 'Our civilization is, generally speaking, founded on the suppression of instincts.' Sex produces the energy, and it is repressed so the energy can be channeled into progress - but the price of progress is the prevalence of guilt instead of happiness. "Progress", for Marcuse, is a concept that provides the explanation and excuse of why the system has to continue; it is the reason the happiness of people is sacrificed (see also pleasure principle). Marcuse argues that 'the irreconcilable conflict is not between work (reality principle - life without leisure) and Eros (pleasure principle - leisure and pleasure), but between alienated labour (performance principle - economic stratification) and Eros.' Sex is allowed for 'the betters' (capitalists...), and for workers only when not disturbing performance. Marcuse believes that a socialist society could be a society without needing the performance of the 'poor' and without as strong a suppression of our sexual drives: it could replace 'alienated labor' with "non-alienated libidinal work" resulting in "a non-repressive civilization based on 'non-repressive sublimation'". Marcuse's argument depends on the assumption that instincts can be shaped by historical phenomena such as repression. Marcuse concludes that our society's troubles result not from biological repression itself but from its increase due to "surplus repression" which is

the result of contemporary society. Негативната диалектика на Адорно от 1966: Adorno does not reject the necessity of conceptual identification, however, nor does his philosophy claim to have direct access to the nonidentical. Under current societal conditions, thought can only have access to the nonidentical via conceptual criticisms of false identifications. Such criticisms must be “determinate negations,” pointing up specific contradictions between what thought claims and what it actually delivers. Through determinate negation, those aspects of the object which thought misidentifies receive an indirect, conceptual articulation. The motivation for Adorno's negative dialectic is not simply conceptual, however, nor are its intellectual resources. His epistemology is “materialist” in both regards. It is motivated, he says, by undeniable human suffering—a fact of unreason, if you will, to counter Kant's “fact of reason.” Suffering is the corporeal imprint of society and the object upon human consciousness: “The need to let suffering speak is a condition of all truth. For suffering is objectivity that weighs upon the subject … „Under current conditions the only way for philosophy to give priority to the object is dialectically, Adorno argues. He describes dialectics as the attempt to recognize the nonidentity between thought and the object while carrying out the project of conceptual identification. Dialectics is “the consistent consciousness of nonidentity,” and contradiction, its central category, is “the nonidentical under the aspect of identity.” Thought itself forces this emphasis on contradiction upon us, he says. To think is to identify, and thought can only achieve truth by identifying. So the semblance (Schein) of total identity lives within thought itself, mingled with thought's truth (Wahrheit). The only way to break through the semblance of total identity is immanently, using the concept. Accordingly, everything that is qualitatively different and that resists conceptualization will show up as a contradiction. “The contradiction is the nonidentical under the aspect of [conceptual] identity; the primacy of the principle of contradiction in dialectics tests the heterogeneous according to unitary thought [Einheitsdenken]. By colliding with its own boundary [Grenze], unitary thought surpasses itself. Dialectics is the consistent consciousness of nonidentity” (ND 5). Society is riven with fundamental antagonisms, which, in accordance with the exchange principle, get covered up by identitarian thought. The only way to expose these antagonisms, and thereby to point toward their possible resolution, is to think against thought—in other words, to think in contradictions. Още за Адорно: "Culture as a common denominator," Adorno writes, "already contains in embryo that schematization and process of cataloging which brings culture within the sphere of administration."(n3) To speak confidently of Polish, Benin, Jewish, or Andean cultures, in other words, is already to begin to plan their regulation, containment, and fossilization. At the same time, however, that cultural studies freezes, or reifies, culture, it undermines the foundation on which the culture concept is built. By rejecting "master narratives" but still upholding the integrity of national, ethnic, class, and gender-based cultures and subcultures, cultural studies is caught in a true contradiction. Local cultures, after all, are only master narratives in their own, more circumscribed domains. The articulation of global and local knowledge, as well as of history, politics, and culture itself thus remains an incomplete, if not impossible, project for cultural studies. Adorno's Aesthetic Theory, on the other hand, inclines humanistic studies toward a mediated account of the relation between the artwork and society, between cultural fragments and the cultural whole. But this reconciliation of subject and object effected by beauty occurred in theory alone. The realm of the aesthetic was palliative in its social

function--"affirmative" in the language of Herbert Marcuse--serving to disarm the more critical thinking and writing sections of the bourgeois class and weakening ties between them and the numerically stronger, but theoretically weaker, popular classes.(n9) For the tradition of critical theory, therefore, the historical legacy of aesthetics was bound to end as a sham. Walter Benjamin argued in 1936 that humankind's "self-alienation has reached such a degree that it can experience its own destruction as an aesthetic pleasure of the first order."(n10) What has long been needed therefore, according to Benjamin, is not an aestheticized politics, but a fully politicized art. Rehearsing ideas that he would later develop in Aesthetic Theory, Adorno argued here that the role of the critic is to explore the truth content of works of art--that is, to recover aesthetic specificity through immanent criticism. This procedure will necessarily expose the artwork as a social testimony. Precisely such a criticism would seem to be rejected out of court by a new art history concerned chiefly with the popular reception of artworks and their cultural significance. Summarizing the viewpoint I associate with cultural studies, Adorno writes: "For meaning, as we know, is not independent of genesis, and it is easy to discern, in everything that cloaks or mediates the material, the trace of insincerity, sentimentality, indeed precisely a concealed and doubly poisonous interest." "But," Adorno then objects, "to act radically in accordance with this principle would be to extirpate, with the false, all that was true also, all that, however impotently, strives to escape the confines of universal practice, every chimerical anticipation of a nobler condition, and so to bring about directly the barbarism that culture is reproached with furthering indirectly. Whoever wants to abolish art cherishes the illusion that decisive change is not blocked. Exaggerated realism is unrealistic .... Whether art is still possible today cannot be decided from above, from the perspective of the relations of production. The question depends, rather, on the state of the forces of production. It encompasses what is possible but not yet realized: an art that refuses to let itself be terrorized by positivist ideology. As legitimate as Herbert Marcuse's critique of the affirmative character of culture was, its thesis requires the investigation of the individual artwork: Otherwise it would become an anticulture league, itself no better than any cultural asset. Rabid criticism of culture is not radical. The contemporary impulse to refuse, in Mulvey's words, the visual pleasure of artworks and deny them any truth content--prior even to performing the work of immanent critique--can be attributed in part to the overvaluation of genesis and reception ("relations of production") Adorno describes. Intentions are never noble; they are stained by "insincerity and sentimentality." Forms are never perfect; they are mediated by exchange value. Yet, however compromised, artworks may by the structure of their forms, the coherence of their references, and their very exalted status as fetishes "strive to escape the confines of universal practice" and function as "anticipation of a nobler condition." To refuse aesthetic engagement, therefore, is to succumb to "positivist ideology," which may be defined here as that mode of thought in which "contradictions are anathema" and in which aesthetic meaning is "all the more entangled in the particularity of mere subjective, instrumental reason." Adorno insists that artworks must always be determinate, not general negations of existing formal categories, ideologies, and social structures. That is, they must possess their own highly developed, organized, or formally "determined" structure, rather than exist as expressions of mere nihilism, resignation, or abstract negation; the latter are described by Adorno as instances of "bad art--literally pre-artistic."(n15) "[Samuel] Beckett's plays," Adorno writes, "are absurd not

because of the absence of meaning, for then they would be simply irrelevant, but because they put meaning on trial; they unfold its history .... [Such] artworks enunciate their meaninglessness with the same determinacy as traditional artworks enunciate their positive meaning. ... Artwork that rigorously negates meaning is by this very rigor bound to the same density and unity that was once requisite to the presence of meaning". Теорията на Хабермас по-късно оказва влияние във философията през идеята за комуникативната рационалност: [Communicative] rationality refers primarily to the use of knowledge in language and action, rather than to a property of knowledge. One might say that it refers primarily to a mode of dealing with validity claims, and that it is in general not a property of these claims themselves. Furthermore…this perspective suggests no more than formal specifications of possible forms of life… it does not extend to the concrete form of life…(Cooke, 1994).Concerning (2), Habermas clearly and explicitly understands communicative rationality according to the terms of a reconstructive science. This means that the conception of communicative rationality is not a definitive rendering of what reason is, but rather a fallible claim. It can prescribe only formal specifications concerning what qualifies as reasonable, being open to revision in cause of experience and learning. On (3) and (4), Habermas's entire conceptual framework is based on his understanding of social interaction and communicative practices, and he ties rationality to the validity basis of everyday speech. This framework locates reason in the everyday practices of modern individuals. This is in contradistinction to theories of rationality (e.g. Plato, Kant, etc.) that seek to ground reason in an intelligible and non-temporal realm, or objective "view from nowhere", which supposes that reason is able adequately to judge reality from a detached and disinterested perspective.

Хайдегер в Битие и време - философията като наука за битието: Тъй като разбирането на Хайдегер предполага усвояване на отношението между понятията, с които борави, отделните точки няма да бъдат разглеждани като затворени, но и като коментар на останалите. Отговорът на този „въпрос” е скрит още в началото на Битие и време. За да се разбере битието, следва да се изходи не просто от това, което е налично – според хайдегеровото понятие – а от непосредственото, което съм и не съм, и което поставя възможността за разбиране според онтологичната разлика, на която е основана фундаменталната онтология. По този начин фундаменталната онтология се осъществява като анализ на Dasein, тоест тя е подготвителна за самата онтология. Предпоставката на фундаменталната онтология: битието може да стане предмет на изследване, „да бъде понятийно артикулирано”. Нейният провал е свързан с установяването от една страна, че обратно, битието не може да бъде схванато просто според „категориите” на Битие и време в анализа на ежедневието, от друга с неизясненото отношение между онтично и онтологично в онтологичната разлика и неясният преход между Dasein и Sein в споменатото отношение. С прости думи, зад всичко това не се преодолява старият дуализъм между душа и тяло. In Being and Time, the interpretation of Being (as presence-at-hand) that grounds the sciences is called ontological, in order to show—not at all surprisingly—the inner affinity between science and a philosophical tradition that is to be de(con)structed. In the late Heidegger however, that grounding interpretation is not understood as a forgotten establishment to be recalled at the level of a discourse more fundamental, but as an event (rather a withdrawal) of Being itself which is not up to a conscious philosophical act (destruction of ontology, fundamental ontology, etc.) to reverse.- онтологичната разлика: The distinction is between to be at all versus to be a thing or object. Not all existences (beings) are objects (природна вещ). He addresses what it is to exist or to be. This chastizing, sarcastic phrase, "are you counting or something?" functions to call us away from the ontic and towards the ontological. The ontic was the phenomenon that was countable or rather reckon-able--the "like," and the scratching of the leg. In other words, it was what had such little significance that it could be grasped by merely marking its simply occuring--by saying "dude you said 'like' like 50 times" or by just saying "it's happening again!" In short, it was a discrete, contained event that cut itself off from the significance of the conversation and the game--this is why the phrase "are you counting!?" is so apt. There is a mode of interpretation of the event that indeed thinks that it adequately grasps the particular event by merely counting it, by limiting significance down to individual elements that make up the whole of significance. The ontological is that significance without any differentiation into things like elements--in the examples, it is the making of the point in the conversation and the importance of the particular at bat in which Jeets scratches his leg. I limit down this importance--to use the second example--by focusing on the leg, by treating the importance of the at-bat as something that can be localized into a small area of significance. I get called back by the sarcastic remark from my friends to an event that is not merely adequately grasped by counting or reckoning with it, but by understanding it, by interpreting it and letting myself be free for interpretation in various ways. The ontological is something that gets understood in a larger sense by me taking up whatever is going on and giving meaning to it: in the at bat, I certainly don't "understand" it by remarking "he's doing it again!" but by

participating in the event, by being a spectator watching the game. Just because you "count" or reckon with the ontic, and understand the "significance" of the ontological, doesn't mean that the ontic is what is merely quantitative and the ontological merely qualitative. Nor does it mean that the ontic is something determinate and the ontological indeterminate. For even when we say that the ontic might be what is quantative we are already attributing a quality to it: the quality of being able to be only conceived quantitatively. So too do we attribute quantity to the qualitative in calling it merely qualitative: it has a singular quantity as opposed to a multiplicity--it is one whereas the quantiative proper is supposedly many. What characterizes the ontic and the ontological is not quantity or quality but significance--in technical terms, the "kind of Being" of things that fall into each category. The ontic has essentially a different type of significance than the significance of the ontological: it is a significance that is adequately grasped in reckoning or counting. The ontological, however, only has a signficance that can be grasped insofar as we grasp it in terms of significance. This is why it is more "primordial" than the ontic--that is not because it is "qualitative" or "indeterminate," murky and obscure in its profundity, but because it is the significance of something explicitly taken as significance. To just hint at what this means, we might say that it requires a shift in the way we conceive of truth. The truth of the ontological is not conceived in terms of how correct something is to how it is represented, because if we are not within the sphere of the ontic, the representation of the thing and the thing itself are both taken in terms of significance. Rather, the truth is in how profoundly as significance the significance of something constitutes itself. Its truth is in terms of how profoundly it reveals itself to be part of its essence as existent, or, rather, in terms of how it discloses its Being.- екзистенция и наличие: Beings unlike Dasein (chairs, shoes, etc.) do not "exist"; they are merely "objectively present". Dasein exists; chairs are objectively present. Two related words, existenziell and Existential, are used as descriptive characteristics of Being. To be existenziell is a categorical or ontic characteristic: an understanding of all this which relates to one's existence, while an Existenzial is an ontological characteristic: the structure of existence.- концепцията за битието-в-света: Being-in-the-world is Heidegger's replacement for terms such as subject, object, consciousness, and world. For him, the split of things into subject/object, as we find in the Western tradition and even in our language, must be overcome, as is indicated by the root structure of Husserl and Brentano's concept of intentionality, i.e., that all consciousness is consciousness of something, that there is no consciousness, as such, cut off from an object (be it the matter of a thought, or of a perception). Nor are there objects without some consciousness beholding or being involved with them. At the most basic level of being-in-the-world, Heidegger notes that there is always a mood, a mood that "assails us" in our unreflecting devotion to the world. A mood comes neither from the "outside" nor from the "inside," but arises from being-in-the-world. One may turn away from a mood, but that is only to another mood; it is part of our facticity. Only with a mood are we permitted to encounter things in the world. Dasein (a co-term for being-in-the-world) has an openness to the world that is constituted by the attunement of a mood or state of mind. As such, Dasein is a "thrown" "projection" (geworfen Entwurf), projecting itself onto the possibilities that lie before it or may be hidden, and interpreting and understanding the world in terms of possibilities. Such

projecting has nothing to do with comporting oneself toward a plan that has been thought out. It is not a plan, since Dasein has, as Dasein, already projected itself. Dasein always understands itself in terms of possibilities. As projecting, the understanding of Dasein is its possibilities as possibilities. Dasein is not 'in' the world as, for instance, water is 'in' a glass i.e., as objects stand to objects, one 'inside' the other. Rather, Being-in is an existential and as such is characteristic of Dasein. It is best described as dwelling alongside, as tarrying along. Dasein comports itself concernfully within the world.Again, Dasein is engaged in the activities of its everyday life--Being-in-the-world denotes Dasein's concernful being alongside entities and tarrying with others. This is the primary mode in which Dasein is in the world. As a corollary, Heidegger contrasts this primary mode with a derivative (founded) mode which he calls knowing the world. In this peculiar way of comportment to the world, I dis-engage myself from my concernful comportment and 'change my attitude' toward the world. I tend to 'focus in' on something as an object Take for example, the handling of a piece of chalk: (1) I can engage in use which teaching or (2) step back from its use and 'talk about it', even starting to describe it ('know it') as white, an inch or so long, etc. This shift in comportment will have great significance, it will affect the attitude one can take towards Human Being. Heidegger looks more closely at one's dealings with the world, he looks specifically at the 'in-the-world'. From this the interpretation uncovers that our primary comportment to 'entities' within the world is one of use. I am, proximately and for the most part, engaged with 'things' in terms of an equipmental totality. Entities, seen from their aspect of use, are called 'ready-to-hand' (Zuhanden). However, entities, when they become disengaged from our use with them become merely 'present-at-hand' (Vorhanden). Think of the distinction between (1) using a pencil and (2) having the pencil break -- and just staring at it. Now, these two ways of describing entities become, for Heidegger, the two ways of categorizing 'things'. Again, though, our primary relationship to entities within the world is in the mode of their being ready-to-hand. And it is with this that a sense of the worldhood of the world emerges as Dasein's totality of involvement's with things ready-to-hand. [Think, for instance, of the 'world' of a carpenter and of how much of that world is 'signified' by the referential totality of involvements that he/she would have to the equipmental totality around them (and how that world might be different from the 'world' of a mathematician).] Heidegger wants to investigate the sense of the self manifest for the most part in everyday existence. His brilliant analysis comes to the startling conclusion that proximately and for the most part, everyday Dasein has no 'self' of its own. One's sense of self, of what one is to do, of how one is to live: this, for the most part, is given from the outside--Heidegger characterizes this as the they-world, or simply as the they (Das Man). The 'who' of everyday Dasein is Das Man. (cf. page 164) Now at this stage Heidegger stops the ongoing analysis and 'steps back' in order to attempt a more primordial interpretation of what has so far been said -- the interpretation is going to seek a deeper understanding of Being-in-the-world. And it is going to do so by uncovering certain fundamental structures in Dasein itself (as opposed to 'things' and 'others'). The analysis discloses two fundamental moments that are always present in Dasein and, for the most part, are involved in a third moment. Let's look at these 'moments', these existential structures of Dasein's Existenz:(1) Befindlichkeit ('How one finds oneself') This expresses the 'fact' that Dasein always finds itself in a situation. Heidegger uses the expression throwness (Geworfenheit).

Dasein is 'thrown' in a world (most radically at birth) and is always already in a world.(a) Concrete manifestation of Befindlichkeit. As a specific mode of Befindlichkeit, Heidegger points out the sense of moods (Stimmung). Moods can somehow disclose 'how we are' or 'how we find ourselves', they manifest a peculiar attunment to existence (this 'power' of moods to disclose will lead Heidegger to his famous discussion of anxiety).(2) Verstehen ('Understanding') This is expressive of Dasein's active comportment towards possibilities, projects. Heidegger says that they understanding is altogether permeated with possibilities (Dasein is always confronted with the 'possible') (Note: understanding is not a 'mental state' nor is 'possibility' to be seen in terms of 'actual possibilities,' rather it is the ground for the 'possibility of possibilities')(a) Specific mode of Verstehen Now Heidegger writes that the 'projecting' of the understanding has its own possibility--that of developing 'itself'. Such a self-developing of the understanding Heidegger calls interpretation. From this we can see how Dasein has the peculiar possibility of understanding itself, of engaging in a self-interpretation. That is to say, of engaging in a 'project' like that put forth in this present treatise: The Dasein Analytic is engaged in an interpretation, a self-understanding of Human Being. Now, these two movements (Befindlichkeit and Verstehen) constitute the essential unity of Dasein's basic state. They are never wholly separate from one another: (pg. 188) "By way of having a mood, Dasein 'sees' possibilities, in terms of which it is. In the projective disclosure of such possibilities, it already has a mood in every case". Now, these two movements are, for the most part, unthematically present in a third movement which Heidegger calls:(3) Verfallen (Fallenness) This expresses Dasein's average everydayness--Dasein's immersion in the world of its everyday concerns and projects. This is the level at which the moments of Befindlichkeit and Verstehen usually operate. Thus we have the three 'movements': Dasein finds itself in a situation, comports itself to possibilities and does so for the most part in its everyday concerns and activities.- времето като трансцендентален хоризонт на разбиране на битието: Firstly, he is trying to criticise the idea of time as a uniform, linear and infinite series of "now-points". On this model, which derives ultimately from Aristotle's Physics, the future is the not-yet-now, the past is the no-longer-now, and the present is the now that flows from future to past at each passing moment. This is what Heidegger calls the "vulgar" or ordinary conception of time where priority is always given to the present. Secondly, he is trying to avoid any conception of time that begins with a distinction between time and eternity. On this understanding of time, classically expressed in Augustine's Confessions, temporality is derived from a higher non-temporal state of eternity, which is co-extensive with the infinite and eternal now of God. the human being is always running ahead towards its end. For Heidegger, the primary phenomenon of time is the future that is revealed to me in my being-towards-death. Insofar as Dasein anticipates, it comes towards itself. The human is not confined in the present, but always projects towards the future. I project towards the future, but what comes out of the future is my past, my personal and cultural baggage, what Heidegger calls my "having-been-ness" (Gewesenheit). the present is something that I can seize hold of and resolutely make my own. What is opened in the anticipation of the future is the fact of our having-been which releases itself into the present moment of action.

Късен Хайдегер- метафизика: One can now notice how the former three-fold quasi-transcendental distinction between the levels of science, ontology, and fundamental ontology has turned into the gulf between thoughtless science (or metaphysics) on the one hand, and thinking for which man is not ready yet, on the other. On the side of thoughtlessness stands now philosophy, whose epochal marginalization by no means amount to the outright disappearance of metaphysics.- наука и техника, метафизика: The primary phenomenon to be understood is not technology as a collection of instruments, but rather technology as a clearing that establishes a deeply instrumental and, as Heidegger sees it, grotesque understanding of the world in general. Of course, if technological revealing were a largely restricted phenomenon, characteristic of isolated individuals or groups, then Heidegger's analysis of it would be of limited interest. The sting in the tale, however, is that, according to Heidegger, technological revealing is not a peripheral aspect of Being. Rather, it defines our modern way of living, at least in the West. The counter-suggestion would be that technological thinking is merely the practical application of modern mathematical science, and that the latter is therefore the primary phenomenon. Heidegger rejects this view, arguing in contrast that the establishment of the technological mode of revealing is a necessary condition for there to be mathematical science at all, since such science “demands that nature be orderable as standing-reserve” by requiring that “nature report itself in some way or other that is identifiable through calculation and that it remain orderable as a system of information” By revealing beings as no more than the measurable and the manipulable, technology ultimately reduces beings to not-beings. The notion of a not-being signals two things: (i) technological revealing drives out any sense of awe and wonder in the presence of beings, obliterating the secularized sense of what is sacred that is exemplified by the poetic habitation of the natural environment of the Rhine; (ii) we are essentially indifferent to the loss. Indeed, on Heidegger's diagnosis, our response to the loss of any feeling of sacredness or awe in the face of beings is to find a technological substitute for that feeling, in the form of “lived-experience”, a drive for entertainment and information, “exaggeration and uproar”.In Being and Time, the interpretation of Being (as presence-at-hand) that grounds the sciences is called ontological, in order to show—not at all surprisingly—the inner affinity between science and a philosophical tradition that is to be de(con)structed. In the late Heidegger however, that grounding interpretation is not understood as a forgotten establishment to be recalled at the level of a discourse more fundamental, but as an event (rather a withdrawal) of Being itself which is not up to a conscious philosophical act (destruction of ontology, fundamental ontology, etc.) to reverse. Here we may say that the survival of a parasitic philosophy of science as academic discipline becomes a further proof that in the sciences metaphysics has attained its completion. Whereas the sciences have remained true to, and further pursued, the allocation of regions within Being, in its analytical incarnation metaphysics has simply confirmed the self-understanding of a privileged region, science, where Being is also understood as mere presence-at-hand. Indeed, in as much as they are a reaction against the so-called continental tradition, the analytic and post-empiricist styles of philosophizing are more a continuation than a rupture with European metaphysics (защото метафизиката е предпоставена в определено положение, тоест не е изолиран философски феномен). Both traditions,

continental metaphysics and Anglo-Saxon philosophy of science, share the premise, best phrased by Heidegger, that being is presence to a subject of cognition, be it in metaphysical or in scientific cognition. Accordingly, both have equally forgotten the directionality, historicality or event-character of Being, traits that let one surmise that the meaning (the sense or direction) of Being may be time. In so doing they have conflated Being with one of its determinations, the present, and beings with presence-at-hand. metaphysics in its traditional form had to be rejected by those who follow the direction of logical positivism. The sheer fact of science's discursive autonomy makes the obsolescence of metaphysics only too obvious. With modernity, the production of knowledge is a process in perpetual, self-referential and self-legitimating motion. It is a production process—a mode of technological production of knowledge—that needs not be legitimated, but only acknowledged, or acquiesced. In so doing, however, the prevailing, scientistic or analytic of philosophy of science remains far too close to science to even notice that there has been a metaphysical establishment at the inception of the scientific disciplines. Let us call this inception, establishment or Stiftung an epochal condition whereby being is understood as presence of objects to empirical research. In so far as it is an epochal condition, the demise of philosophy and the rise of science as autonomous body of knowledge belongs to the peculiar discursive constellation we call modernity. In so far as it is a condition, the historical establishment that makes this events possible—the set of historical conditions thereof—constitutes the given or starting point that must be acknowledged by any discipline that, calling itself philosophy or anything else, attempts to raise the question of the human sciences' place in the late-modern constellation of discourse. What is then left for philosophy at the end of modernity, when one refuses to comply with the only admitted type of discourse, the analytic one, precisely on account of its complicity with science self-understanding? Not certainly a kind of philosophical or narrative knowledge, but a thinking that—while irrevocably exterior to scientific practice--raises the issue of the latter's conditions from the standpoint of the history of Being. Translated into the late-Heideggerian framework, such is the question posed in the second section of the above quoted essay, "what task is reserved for thinking at the end of philosophy?". - история на битието: Later, Heidegger’s “turn” (Kehre) rendered the search for anthropological invariants obsolete: The core element of the “turn” was the insight into the radical historicity of what it means to be human. All anthropologies and ontologies turned out to be metaphysical generalizations of a certain moment in the history of Being. Историята на битието не е толкова история на философията, на това, което може да бъде посочено като историческо положение, колкото начините, по които самото битие се показва в историята. With the “turn”, Kittler argues, Heidegger became aware that it is technology that determines what it means to be human. E.g. the early Heidegger explained radio broadcast by an tendency of Dasein to erase distance. The late Heidegger, in contrast, attributes this tendency to technology and not to Dasein. Since Heidegger opposes it to interpretation, curiosity might be considered as a component of what he calls abandonment of Being (Seinsverlassenheit) – the forgetting about interpretations. In this respect, even the characterization of human beings by an understanding/interpretation of Being (Seinsverständnis) turns out to be historical: Hermeneutics might be understood as an epiphenomenon of a specific historical media environment that is dominated by symbolic media.

- езикът като дом на битието: language is always already there for us. "Out" of it shows up our being, in the sense that language helps us see that we *are* the kinds of beings we are, helps us to see that there are other kinds of being (entities) around us, that helps us articulate what, out of all of this incredible complexity and diversity, shines and shows up for us as having meaning and worth. So what is the house, or “home,” of Being? Why is it “Language”? Well, in relation to Heidegger’s attempt to answer the question of the meaning of Being, this becomes fairly obvious. The only way to properly ask the question, is to properly formulate the question – use the proper language. This is where it gets tricky, because how do I know what the proper language is? Basically, if I don’t use the proper language, I can’t ask the question properly – which seems like a fairly obvious statement, but it goes much deeper in this case. Heidegger believed that language today is worn out because of overuse of important words, and would be inadequate for in-depth study of Being (Sein). For example, Sein (being), the word itself, is saturated with multiple meanings. Thus, he invented new vocabulary and linguistic styles, based on Ancient Greek and Germanic etymological word relations, to disambiguate commonly used words. He avoided words like consciousness, ego, human, nature, etc. and instead talked holistically of Being-in-the-world, Dasein. Thinking gathers language into simple saying. In this way language is the language of Being, as clouds are the clouds of the sky. Heidegger ends by saying that “[w]hat is needed in the present world [of] crisis is less philosophy, but more attentiveness in thinking” (“Letter,” 276).  If, for Heidegger, thinking acts insofar as it thinks, what thinking does is to bring to light the truth of the Being of man as ek-sistence.  The truth of Being is the “es gibt,” which it gives to man the destining of his own being.  As destining, what is disclosed by this gift is the proper end of man, the proper end that is the essence of the humanitas of the human being. Basically, research as shown that language modifies perceptual processes such that it changes what we pay attention to. This is particularly evident with the phenomenon of names. Names allow for a higher-order perceptual interpretation in terms of "objects". For Heidegger then, language allows for the literal creation of new objects i.e. beings qua beings. Hence, he says: "Genuinely and initially, it is the essence of language to first elevate beings into the open as beings. Where there is no language — as with stones, plants, and animals — there is also no openness of beings and thus also no openness of non-beings, un-beings, or emptiness. By first naming objects, language brings beings to word and to appearance." Хайдегер вече смята, че не времето прави възможно разбирането на битието, а битието като такова (битието изобщо, съ-битието, прояснението, нескритостта, прафеноменът). Битието като такова обосновава всяко биващо. Битието като такова не може да бъде предмет на изследване – то разкрива биващото, но с това скрива самото себе си. Битие има там, където има разбиране.

Гадамер- историчност и езиковост на разбирането: науката разбира битието като наличие. Гадамер не говори за битието като такова (както Хайдегер), без оглед на съществуващото. Битието не е определено в себе си постоянно (субстанциално) като налично, а релационно (същностно отнесено към друго битие), динамично, като присъствие и отсъствие. Определеността е отношение. Човешкото битие не е налично, а исторично, разбирането не започва никога начисто. Методът желае да изчисти разбирането от историчност, но така остава без разбиране. Разбирането е проективно, тоест обусловено от предпоставката за разбиране, както обектът на Хусерл в ейдетичната редукция. Правилното разбиране е потвърдено от самите неща. Предразсъдъкът (sensus comunis) е предпоставка за разбиране и условие за съществуването в среда (семейство, т.н.) и се основава на авторитет, вместо проверка (знам за гравитацията, но не мога да проверя нейната истина извън знанието ми за нея). Отричането на могъществото на науката обаче поставя и самата проверка в сферата на предразсъдъка като контекст. Разбирането е винаги непълно в характера си.- език и говор: A statement, in other words, severs the finite from the infinite, leaving what is said without recourse to the unsaid from which it would have sprung. Stripped of this horizon, a statement lacks the unique tonality that derives from its resonance with the unspoken whole of meaning that was described above. This perhaps accounts for the peculiar flatness or atonality that characterizes all official “statements.” To borrow a felicitous word usage from P. Christopher Smith, a statement lacks the capacity to “shimmer.” In contrast, Gadamer says, “to say what one means—to make oneself understood— means to hold what is said together with an infinity of what is not said in one unified meaning and to ensure that it is understood in this way.” Although the spoken word is finite, there is away of speaking that allows this infinite unsaid also to be present. To do this is to speak in a speculative way: “Someone who speaks is behaving speculatively when his words do not reflect beings, but express a relation to the whole of being.” Yet far from reducing all such statements to aspects of the same, as if “the whole of being” were a fixed absolute, this relation to the whole both generates difference within it and likewise lends to every concrete word a meaning that belongs to it alone. In the living virtuality of speech the infinite and the finite, the unsaid and the said, encounter each other and in this communion give original voice to what has never been said before.- език и свят: битието има езиков характер. Мисленето не репрезентира реалността, защото нямаме позиция, от която да сме извън него за да го сравним с реалността. Връзката между език и свят – това, че светът е даден в езика – е обратното на това, че светът е предмет на езика. Световият хоризонт на езика (отношението между думите) , а не просто думи и неща. Така значенията не са същности, а в събитието на езика (значението се случва, събитие е), и дори крайно технологичното мислене не може да избяга от това. „Задълбочаването във феномена на разбирането” е подход към истината на „истина и метод”, вместо критерият за съответствие. Истината се случва, тя е отношение, в което действа не просто субектът, но самото нещо. Нещата са феномени, но загърбвайки онтологичната разлика на Хайдегер, те са съществуващото, вместо битието като такова. Разбирането въвлича човека в самоопределянето на нещото (нещото не е самото битие). Битието, което може да бъде разбрано е самоопосредяване (за това

се говори за събитие, което е ставане). Нещата представят сами себе си в езика, проговарянето на нещата е същинския акт в събитието на словестността (нещата са и се самоопределят като проговарят), те не се удвояват, а така съществуват (битието на самите неща е език). Спекулативното е когато мисълта не допуска да се разчлени на субект и обект,а се схваща в тяхното динамично отношение (единство), тоест когато едното и другото се отразяват взаимно (битие и език не са в себе си, а в отношението помежду си). Различието между двете се схваща, но е там единствено посредством случването. Language, when functioning properly, has a “self-effacing” quality. That is, it disappears and makes itself nothing in order to point to the subject matter or meaning itself; it allows the things themselves to become present while not drawing attention to itself. That is, language does not simply reflect the intelligibility of reality but actually contributes to it.  Of course, such contributions can be negative and distorting; yet, they can also be positive and expansive, opening up new insights and ways of seeing the (very same) realities or texts we happen to be studying. Prejudice (Vorurteil) literally means a fore-judgment, indicating all the assumptions required to make a claim of knowledge. Behind every claim and belief lie many other tacit beliefs;  it is the work of understanding to expose and subsequently affirm or negate them. Unlike our everyday use of the word, which always implies that which is damning and unfounded, Gadamer’s use of  “prejudice” is neutral: we do not know in advance which prejudices are worth preserving and which should be rejected. Furthermore, prejudice-free knowledge is neither desirable nor possible. Neither the hermeneutic circle nor prejudices are necessarily vicious. Against the enlightenment’s “prejudice against prejudice” (272) Gadamer argues that prejudices are the very source of our knowledge. “Tradition,” like “prejudice,” is a term Gadamer develops beyond its everyday meaning. To affirm, as Gadamer does, that one can never escape from one’s tradition, does not mean he is insisting we endorse all traditions writ large. Gadamer is not espousing a conservative approach to tradition that blindly affirms the whole of a tradition and leaves one without recourse to critique it. Critics like Habermas and Ricoeur have faulted Gadamer for failing to insist on a critical response to tradition. These criticisms miss the mark for two reasons. First, accepting the fact that we can never entirely reflect oneself out of tradition does not mean that one cannot change and question one’s tradition. His point is that in as much as tradition serves as the condition of one’s knowledge, the background that instigates all inquiry, one can never start from a tradition-free place. A tradition is what gives one a question or interest to begin with. Second, all successful efforts to enliven a tradition require changing it so as to make it relevant for the current context. To embrace a tradition is to make it one’s own by altering it. A passive acknowledgment of a tradition does not allow one to live within it. One must apply the tradition as one’s own. In other words, the importance of the terms, “prejudice” and “tradition,” for Gadamer’s hermeneutics lies in the way they indicate the active nature of understanding that produces something new. Tradition hands down certain interests, prejudices, questions, and problems, that incite knowledge. Tradition is less a conserving force than a provocative one. Even a revolution, Gadamer notes, is a response to the tradition that nonetheless makes use of that very same tradition. Here we can also perceive the Hegelian influences on Gadamer to the extent that even a rejection of some elements of the tradition relies on the preservation of other elements, which are then understood (that is, taken up) in new ways.

Фуко (генеалогия и археология)Archaeology as method isolates and deconstructs components of accepted knowledge. It exposes the randomness of interpretation, the ordered procedures that made discourses possible and what conditions their unity by providing alternative accounts and uncovering popular knowledges, local beliefs and understandings that traditional history has disqualified. Foucault was not so much concerned with determining whether the knowledge systems of the human sciences were true but rather with contextualizing and historicizing notions of truth, knowledge and rationality. Foucault rethinks and refines his analytical method, shifting from an attempt to develop a theory of rule-governed systems of discourse to a more explicit focus on power, knowledge and the body. Foucault deploys Friedrich Nietzsche’s genealogical analysis of the development of morals through power as a starting point for developing a method that includes an examination of complex power relations between institutional practices, bodies and systems of thought. This more refined analytical method is not a replacement method for archaeology - the analysis of discourse, the demonstration of discontinuity and shifts and the rejection of a totalising view of history remains central to the genealogical analytic - rather archaeology and genealogy are two halves of a complimentary approach, alternating and supporting each other. In traditional conceptions of power, power is ascribed to and exercised by agents. Power is equated with domination, cause and effect, oppressed and oppressor. For Foucault, however, there is no binary and all-encompassing opposition between rulers and ruled at the root of power relations, rather it is the multiple of relations that take shape and come into force throughout society. Power is not an institution, a structure, a strength people are endowed with, something that can be held or transmitted. Power is incessant, constant, and wholly relational. That power is permanent and self-producing is simply the overall effect that emerges from the multiplicity of force relations. Power is productive; it produces subjects, it makes things happen and achieves outcomes. Power operates discretely and subtly as well as ambiguously and through ostensibly freely adopted practices, determining individuals’ behaviour not simply by coercion or repression but rather by controlling individuals’ decisions to behave. Power does not have a single identifiable point; the power is the network itself.Foucault’s use of the term archaeology helps to distinguish his historical work from mainstream history. In brief, mainstream history is longitudinal: it studies the development of something over a period of time. In contrast, archaeology is cross-sectional: it studies many different things that occurred at the same time. He examined several different things that occurred at the same time. For example, he studied artifacts of eighteenth-century European linguistics, economics, and science. Then he tried to figure out how those artifacts made sense together. When he conducted archaeological studies, Foucault was particularly interested in knowledge, and he used the term episteme to refer to the knowledge system of a particular time. The episteme is the pattern that can be seen across various disciplines like economics, linguistics, and science. An episteme forms the basis for distinguishing true knowledge from false knowledge: I would define the episteme retrospectively as the strategic apparatus which permits of separating out from among all the statements which are possible those that will be acceptable within, I won’t say a scientific theory, but a field of scientificity, and which it is possible to say are true or false. The episteme is the `apparatus’ which

makes possible the separation, not of the true from the false, but of what may from what may not be characterised as scientific. (Foucault 1980b, p. 197) However, by most reckonings, genealogies are based on archaeologies. While archaeology works to understand how artifacts fit together in a historical moment, genealogy works to figure out what kind of people would fit into that set of artifacts. Foucault’s genealogies are generally based on archaeological-type studies. That is, he examined a cross-section of artifacts (archaeology), and then asked questions like: What kind of people would live in such a way? Given those artifacts and epistemes, how did people think of themselves in the world?” (p. 39) No matter whether we think that archaeology is similar to or different from genealogy, there are three major features that distinguish Foucault’s historical work from mainstream approaches to history. First, Foucault’s historical work challenges both continuist and discontinuist historical accounts. Continuous histories emphasize how much things stay the same, and discontinuous histories emphasize how much things change. One way to understand Foucault’s historiographical approach is to say that he was being critical, provocative, or contrary. Whether mainstream history emphasized continuity or discontinuity, Foucault offered a challenge to that emphasis, whenever it appeared as an unquestioned assumption about history. Foucault’s approach to history does not try to be objective, but rather it aims to be a critical history of the present. every statement also projects the power differentials giving rise to its situation in a specific socio-historical environment. Author and Speaker are projected textually: they are encapsulated (enshrined, as it were, in the monumental pyramid Hegel identified the sign with) in the being of the word. The power differentials the genealogical Foucault observes, I argue, are part of the same differential and socio-historical, but ultimately textual mode of being. The scientific statement projects its speaker and their credentials, that is, the institution, that is, the power differentials between the speakers and statements of that institution (“of” in both senses: authored/authorized by it and constitutive of it), that is, the socio-historical context of the institution (again, both senses: society projects institutions which project society), that is, the conditions of social emergence: economic, historical, political. The true is the totality: il n’y a rien dehors le texte. I do not think there is a breach between archaeology and genealogy – if one reads Foucault’s project as a differential-historical (that is, a différantial) one.the archaeological and the genealogical concepts both share in the same understanding of history. That is, they both reject a historical understanding based on a totalizing view of history. Instead, they posit an attempt to investigate the immanent emergence of the event through descent. In doing so, they both come to reject the idea of a hidden reality or reality understood as a split between appearance and said reality. Rather, archaeology and genealogy understand events through their surface.In the "First Treatise" Nietzsche aims to show that the valuations "good/evil" and "good/bad" have distinct origins and that the two senses of "good" reflect, in their origins, radically opposed meanings. The noble mode of valuation calls what it itself stands for "good", that is, everything which is powerful and life-asserting. In the "good/evil" distinction, which is the product of what Nietzsche calls "slave morality", so-called "evil" equates to what aristocratic morality calls "good". This valuation develops out of the ressentiment of the weak in the face of the powerful, by whom they are oppressed and whom they envy.

Nietzsche indicts the "English psychologists" for lacking historical sense. They seek to do moral genealogy by explaining altruism in terms of the utility of altruistic actions, which is subsequently forgotten as such actions become the norm. But the judgment "good", according to Nietzsche, originates not with the beneficiaries of altruistic actions. Rather, the good themselves (the powerful) coined the term "good". Further, Nietzsche sees it as psychologically absurd to suggest that altruism derives from a utility which is forgotten: if it is useful, what is the incentive to forget it? Rather such a value-judgment gains currency by being increasingly burned into the consciousness. From the aristocratic mode of valuation another mode of valuation branches off which develops into its opposite: the priestly mode of valuation. Nietzsche suggests that a confrontation between the priestly caste and the warrior caste encourages this process. The priests, and all those who feel disenfranchised and powerless in a situation of subjugation and physical impotence (e.g., slavery), develop a deep and venomous hatred for the powerful. Thus originates what Nietzsche calls the "slave revolt in morality", which, according to him, begins with Judaism (§7), for it is the bridge which led to the slave revolt of Christian morality by the alienated, oppressed masses of the Roman Empire (a dominant theme in The Antichrist, written the following year). Slave morality in feeling ressentiment does not seek redress for its grievances by taking revenge through action, as the noble would, but by setting up an imaginary revenge. It therefore needs enemies in order to sustain itself, unlike noble morality, which hardly takes enemies seriously and forgets about them instantly having dealt with them. The weak deceive themselves into thinking that the meek are blessed and will win everlasting life, thereby ultimately vanquishing the strong. They invent the term "evil" to apply to the strong, and that which proceeds from strength, which is precisely what is "good" according to the noble, aristocratic valuation. These latter call their inferiors "bad"—in the sense of "worthless" and "ill-born" (as in the Greek words κακος and δειλος)—not "evil".

ДеридаPresence and AbsenceThe metaphysical tradition can be characterised by two basic desires or trends, admittedly manifested in various different forms, with many complex and subtle inflections and widely differing doctrines, particular styles, tones and contents. First there is a consistently manifested desire to reconstruct a transcendental realm, which is otherwise radically absent. The lost origin of our finite or fallen state drives us to continuously reconstruct our beginnings. Second, in the search for lost origins the ideal and supreme value of presence turns up everywhere. All aspects of experience and/or existence are relegated to a moment of presence. But the ideal of presence always implies more than one moment:

1. Presence, we assume, describes an original state, a state that must have come first. As I gaze out into the world I can say the world is present to my observing eye. If that is the case, then my observing consciousness must be present to my own self-reflection. It thus follows that meaning, in its most pure sense, as conscious thought, must be present to me as I gaze out onto the world. Presence is, therefore, the main predicate for a text’s meaning (its sense or its reference), despite the fact that this meaning is always absent and in need of reconstruction through reading or interpretation.

2. For this reason, a second moment of presence invades consciousness as absence--the disappearance of the world behind the veils of language, consciousness going astray, the reign of death, non-sense, irrationality. In this way gaps, absences and deficiencies of all imaginable kinds (the structurality or play of a structure) are subordinated to a principle of presence. Is it possible to imagine an absence without reference to the principle of presence? It would be a radical absence, something always and from the beginning absent, missing, lost to experience. If there was such an absence, how could we glimpse it? 

3. We glimpse it between repetitions as their repeatability. If the present moment can be repeated (i.e. remembered) then, preceding the present moment, is the possibility of its being repeated in memory (i.e., memory itself as repeatability). So memory precedes and exceeds the present moment, which we will have remembered. Memory, as traditional accounts make clear, gets associated with death and the memorialising of the dead, or mourning, in a way that gets us back, always and from the beginning, to the second moment (absence).Derrida’s much-cited statement, “there is nothing outside the text,” suggests an absence that has never been, nor could ever be, present (in which case it would not strictly be absent either). It might be helpful to summarise here an exemplary argument, derived from Derrida’s reading of the structural linguistics of Ferdinand de Saussure:1) The sign is irreducibly secondary. It always refers to something else. Sometimes the something else that a sign refers to is actually itself (e.g., this sign here) but this doesn’t mean that the sign’s meaning (its reference to itself by virtue of its sense—sign = signifying unit) is primary. What is primary is the signifying aspect of it. The sign comes before its referent (sign) in so far as this sign means this sign. And that, of course, is secondary. It also illustrates that signs are necessarily always divided. Their principle is the repeatability that allows them to apparently jump out of themselves to refer back. However, in the repetition the sign is irremediably changed. It is no longer the sign it was. Disconcertingly, this kind of punning cannot be dismissed as a kind of sophistic

rhetorical game. Or rather, it can be dismissed. But the principle of your ability to dismiss it (your ability to ignore basic rhetorical processes and pass over them in silence) is in fact the same principle that allows meaning to arise in the first place, cancelling out the rhetorical dimension, the secondary text (giving rise to metaphors suggesting that the text was like a vehicle of transport for meaning or truth, which might therefore be driven astray, or like a coat that covered meaning or truth and which might therefore be revealed only in a kind of hermeneutic strip-tease). 2) So the sign is at the beginning. We never arrive at a meaning independently of some aspect of text, through which we must pass before cancelling it out as unwanted rhetoric. Therefore there is no beginning.“Something Missing”According to Saussure, language functions by virtue of the fact that the signifying element (called signifier) relates to its signified by way of a perpetually undetermined aspect, an absent trace, which allows the fleeting and transient phenomena called reference to occur. I refer to this table here by virtue of what remains undetermined in the word table. The difference between the word and the thing necessarily involves a gap--this is play—which involves both differentiality (the condition for there being differences) and repeatability—the condition according to which a sign can signify again and again and again, each time in a different context, potentially infinitely. Derrida’s formulation reveals a solution to the age-old problem of the relation between the finite and the infinite too. The finite field (of theory, knowledge and experience generally) is finite owing to the absent, unpresentable “something missing” that leaves it groundless. For this same reason it is infinite too. A sign is always a substitution for another sign, with no anchoring point, except the “something missing,” the differentiality and infinite repeatability of the trace, which, as a principle of structuration cannot be thought of as either present or absent. What is perhaps not clear from the “Structure, Sign and Play” article, which is specifically concerned with structural anthropology, is that the formulation does not only concern language. The total perceptual field (the world) can be replaced or supplemented by a signifying structure (signs) in the same way that one sign replaces another (cat = chat = feline mammal). The singular condition that allows us to represent the world to ourselves at all is the trace, the gap between word and thing, the differences between signs, etc. Our experience of presence is mediated by an absence that we can never experience as such. This is the crucial limitation to science and to knowledge generally. However, once the nature of the limitation has been recognised a new implication can be affirmed. If a sign is produced as an attempt to make up for a deficiency in the field (the “something missing” of one-to-one representation, the gap between sign and thing) then the addition of the sign is in fact the production of a new signifying structure that cannot itself be reduced to that which it is supposed to signify. Another way of putting this would be to point out that structuralism doesn’t simply discover underlying structures. Rather, it adds more signifying structure. The pattern follows what Derrida has called supplementarity.The supplement can be thought of as having two mutually exclusive meanings:

1. It is a replacement (e.g. replacing an absent centre).2. And it is an addition, adding something new to the structure itself.

The point is, for Derrida, that there is a remainder (an excess) of signification always remaining “unsignified” (a lack of signification) which allows new readings in new contexts. So Derrida comes down neither on the side of structure, nor on the side of play, but locates at the absent centre a process that he names différance. The SameAs a way of arriving at the term différance it is worth examining the workings of another substitutable but non-synonymous term, the same. Derrida’s notion of the same emerges from a question about concepts like identity, ideality, and the concept itself. In famous reading of Plato, called “Plato’s Pharmacy,” from Dissemination, Derrida provides a commentary on the law that governs the truth of the eidos (Plato’s word for the idea). If the reading concerns the specifically Socratic version of the law (from The Crito) it can nonetheless be inserted into the series of substitutions, thus conferring a kind of exemplarity on it. According to The Crito the most worthy object of the philosophical dialogue is:The truth of eidos as that which is identical to itself, always the same as itself and always simple, eidos, undecomposable, invariable. The eidos is that which can always be repeated as the same. The ideality and invisibility of the eidos are its power-to-be-repeated. Now, law is always a law of repetition, and repetition is always submission to a law (D 125)A bit later on it turns out that this law of repetition (already paradoxical in the last sentence) involves a double participation in which the two parts (e.g., body and soul) are related to each other not through their being separate but by the one referring back to the other as a repetition of the same. This is a law that governs the relationship between writing and idea: “This double participation, once again, does not mix together two previously separate elements; it refers back to a same that is not the identical, to the common element or medium of any dissociation” (D 127).The law can be outlined in this way: if there is repetition there is sameness, and there is only repetition if it is of the same, but the repetition of the same can never be identical. This dissociation of the same from itself is the principle that governs the identity of the idea (its ideality and invisibility). The idea must be able to be repeated in order for it to always be the same idea. Because the principle and the medium of this dissociation and repetition of the same has always been isolated by the tradition, quite correctly and uncontroversially, as writing, Derrida is led to call everything by the paradoxical formulation arche-writing (writing at the origin). Elsewhere, in the famous “Signature, Event, Context” (which inspired a lamentably ill-informed and thus ill-advised response from the Speech Act theorist John Searle, and in a brief article called “My Chances/Mes Chances,” Derrida develops this law of repetition as the iterability of the written mark. The identifiability of the mark in its repetition and its differentiality is what allows it to hop about from context to context (in fact condemns it to perpetual hopping about). So the same in Derrida is a combination of identity and difference governed by a simultaneous repeatability and differentiality.DifféranceDifférance is a term that Derrida coins on the basis of a pun that the French language makes possible. An understanding of this term is helpful because it can explain a lot about Derrida’s apparently “mischievous” playing with language and ideas. I put “mischievous” in quotation marks because many people have misunderstood the

powerful implications of his witty strategy. The pun is possible because in French the word différer can mean either to differ or to defer, depending on context.

Différence: to differ from something and to defer full identity and presenceIf I were comparing two different objects of the same generic type (this hat is different from this one) I’d use différer just as I would if I was putting off an appointment (let’s defer it until a time when we’ll both be free). The one, take note, implies spatiality (difference) while the other implies temporality (deferral). What Derrida is asking us to do is to combine both, normally mutually exclusive, meanings in the one new term différance. The pun involves the use of the little letter a. The French différence might mean either difference or deferral. Derrida’s new term, spelt with an “a” instead of an “e,” should be taken to mean both difference and deferral simultaneously. The first part of the pun we can call the performative--or auto-referential--aspect. What this means is that by both differing from itself (it means two different things at once) and deferring until infinity any final meaning (it cannot at any one time mean both differ and defer) the word itself is a performance of its meaning. Différance just is what différance means. The second part of the pun involves the fact that Derrida’s misspelling is only noticeable when the word is written. Saying différence and différance makes no difference in French. It is pronounced the same way with or without the alteration. What this brings to our attention is the difference between phoneme (audible mark) and grapheme (written, visible mark) and a certain imperceptibility of this particular difference. It is this imperceptible difference that Derrida is using in his article “Différance” to draw our attention to the simultaneously absent and present trace, which as a structuring principle is both inaudible and invisible but which allows for the supplement of the audible for the visible and vice versa. In that article, he then goes on to show the same structurality at work in the relation between language and ideas, and between the sensible and intelligible fields of experience, too—that is, thoughts and sensible intuitions turn out to be related as repetitions of the same in a mutually parasitical structure.

So we can say that Différance is the word that Derrida coins to describe and perform the way in which any single meaning of a concept or text arises only by the effacement of other possible meanings, which are themselves only deferred, left over, for their possible activation in other contexts. Différance thus both describes and performs the situation, or the conditions, under which all identities and meanings can occur—so that any text can be repeated in an infinite number of possible contexts for an infinite number of potential but undetermined addressees. The term operates as a powerful modification of the ordinary notions of identity and difference.Различаването. Различаването произвежда структури. Тези структури са потенциално променливи, не са завършени – не може да има завършено познание за тях. Всяка структура – икономическа, юрдическа и т.н. – има релационен характер. Това означава прословутата фраза на Дерида „няма нищо извън текста“ – няма субстанция.

Трансцендентално означаемото. Философията се е опитвала да постигне някакво трансцендентално означаемо – нещо, което има идентичност извън играта на различия, извън текста. То обаче е само илюзия. Ние нямаме власт над играта на различия – определени сме от нея. Смъртта на субекта – няма субект и никога не го е имало.

Аналитичен обрат: Фреге, Ръсел, Мур- Фреге: Фреге въвежда логическият анализ на езика с цел да се избегне психологизма. Frege suggested that the terms of a language have both a sense and a denotation (смисъл и значение), i.e., that at least two semantic relations are required to explain the significance or meaning of the terms of a language. Here are some examples of identity statements: 117+136 = 253. The morning star is identical to the evening star. Mark Twain is Samuel Clemens. Bill is Debbie's father.Frege believed that these statements all have the form ‘a=b’, where ‘a’ and ‘b’ are either names or descriptions that denote individuals. He naturally assumed that a sentence of the form ‘a=b’ is true if and only if the object a just is (identical to) the object b. For example, the sentence ‘117+136 = 253’ is true if and only if the number 117+136 just is the number 253. But Frege noticed that this account of truth can't be all there is to the meaning of identity statements. The statement ‘a=a’ has a cognitive significance (or meaning) that must be different from the cognitive significance of ‘a=b’. We can learn that ‘Mark Twain=Mark Twain’ is true simply by inspecting it; but we can't learn the truth of ‘Mark Twain=Samuel Clemens’ simply by inspecting it — you have to examine the world to see whether the two persons are the same. Similarly, whereas you can learn that ‘117+136 = 117+136’ and ‘the morning star is identical to the morning star’ are true simply by inspection, you can't learn the truth of ‘117+136 = 253’ and ‘the morning star is identical to the evening star’ simply by inspection. Now the problem becomes clear: the meaning of ‘a=a’ clearly differs from the meaning of ‘a=b’, but given the account of the truth described in the previous paragraph, these two identity statements appear to have the same meaning whenever they are true! For example, ‘Mark Twain=Mark Twain’ is true just in case: the person Mark Twain is identical with the person Mark Twain. And ‘Mark Twain=Samuel Clemens’ is true just in case: the person Mark Twain is identical with the person Samuel Clemens. But given that Mark Twain just is Samuel Clemens, these two cases are the same case, and that doesn't explain the difference in meaning between the two identity sentences. And something similar applies to all the other examples of identity statements having the forms ‘a=a’ and ‘a=b’. So the puzzle Frege discovered is: how do we account for the difference in cognitive significance between ‘a=b’ and ‘a=a’ when they are true? If a name, say n, appears in a true sentence S, and the identity sentence n=m is true, then the Principle of Identity Substitution tells us that the substitution of the name m for the name n in S does not affect the truth of S. In other words, the following argument is valid: Mark Twain was an author. Mark Twain=Samuel Clemens. Therefore, Samuel Clemens was an author. If we say something true about an object, then even if we change the name by which we refer to that object, we should still be saying something true about that object. But Frege, in effect, noticed the following counterexample to the Principle of Identity Substitution. Consider the following argument:John believes that Mark Twain wrote Huckleberry Finn. Mark Twain=Samuel Clemens. Therefore, John believes that Samuel Clemens wrote Huckleberry Finn.This argument is not valid. There are circumstances in which the premises are true and the conclusion false. We have already described such circumstances. John may not believe that Samuel Clemens wrote Huckleberry Finn. The premises of the above argument, therefore, do not logically entail the conclusion. So the Principle of Identity

Substitution appears to break down in the context of propositional attitude reports. The puzzle, then, is to say what causes the principle to fail in these contexts.The expressions ‘4’ and ‘8/2’ have the same denotation but express different senses, different ways of conceiving the same number. However, even though the names ‘Mark Twain’ and ‘Samuel Clemens’ denote the same individual, they express different senses. Using the distinction between sense and denotation, Frege can account for the difference in cognitive significance between identity statements of the form ‘a=a’ and those of the form ‘a=b’. Since the sense of ‘a’ differs from the sense of ‘b’, the components of the sense of ‘a=a’ and the sense of ‘a=b’ are different. Frege can claim that the sense of the whole expression is different in the two cases. Since the sense of an expression accounts for its cognitive significance, Frege has an explanation of the difference in cognitive significance between ‘a=a’ and ‘a=b’, and thus a solution to the first puzzle. Frege proposed that when a term (name or description) follows a propositional attitude verb, it no longer denotes what it ordinarily denotes. Instead, Frege claims that in such contexts, a term denotes its ordinary sense. This explains why the Principle of Identity Substitution fails for terms following the propositional attitude verbs in propositional attitude reports. The Principle asserts that truth is preserved when we substitute one name for another having the same denotation. But, according to Frege's theory, the names ‘Mark Twain’ and ‘Samuel Clemens’ denote different senses when they occur in the following sentences:John believes that Mark Twain wrote Huckleberry Finn. John believes that Samuel Clemens wrote Huckleberry Finn.If they don't denote the same object, then there is no reason to think that substitution of one name for another would preserve truth.- Ръсел: The reason Russell believes many ordinarily accepted statements are open to doubt is that they appear to refer to entities that may be known only through inference (заключение, извод). Thus, underlying Russell's various projects was not only his use of logical analysis, but also his long-standing aim of discovering whether, and to what extent, knowledge is possible. If our knowledge of the external world comes through inferences to the best explanation, and if such inferences are always fallible, what guarantee do we have that our beliefs are reliable? Russell's response to this question was partly metaphysical and partly epistemological. On the metaphysical side, Russell developed his famous theory of logical atomism, in which the world is said to consist of a complex of logical atoms (such as “little patches of colour”) and their properties and relations. Together these atoms and their properties form the atomic facts which, in turn, combine to form logically complex objects. What we normally take to be inferred entities (for example, enduring physical objects) are then understood as logical constructions formed from the immediately given entities of sensation, viz., “sensibilia.” On the epistemological side, Russell argues that it is also important to show how each questionable entity may be reduced to, or defined in terms of, another entity (or entities) whose existence is more certain. For example, on this view, an ordinary physical object that normally might be thought to be known only through inference may be defined instead as a certain series of appearances, connected with each other by continuity and by certain causal laws. … More generally, a ‘thing’ will be defined as a certain series of aspects, namely those which would commonly be said to be of the thing. To say that a certain aspect is an aspect of a certain thing will merely mean that it is one of those

which, taken serially, are the thing. The reason we are able to do this, says Russell, is that our world is not wholly a matter of inference. There are things that we know without asking the opinion of men of science. If you are too hot or too cold, you can be perfectly aware of this fact without asking the physicist what heat and cold consist of. … We may give the name ‘data’ to all the things of which we are aware without inference. Anything that resists construction in this sense may be said to be an ontological atom. Such objects are atomic, both in the sense that they fail to be composed of individual, substantial parts, and in the sense that they exist independently of one another. Their corresponding propositions are also atomic, both in the sense that they contain no other propositions as parts, and in the sense that the members of any pair of true atomic propositions will be logically independent of one another. Russell believes that formal logic, if carefully developed, will mirror precisely, not only the various relations between all such propositions, but their various internal structures as well. It is in this context that Russell also introduces his famous distinction between two kinds of knowledge of truths: that which is direct, intuitive, certain and infallible, and that which is indirect, derivative, uncertain and open to error (1905, 41f; 1911, 1912, and 1914b). To be justified, every indirect knowledge claim must be capable of being derived from more fundamental, direct or intuitive knowledge claims. The kinds of truths that are capable of being known directly include both truths about immediate facts of sensation and truths of logic. (Да, това е разликата знание за и знание на).- Мур: Moore asserted that philosophical arguments can suffer from a confusion between the use of a term in a particular argument and the definition of that term (in all arguments). He named this confusion the naturalistic fallacy. For example, an ethical argument may claim that if a thing has certain properties, then that thing is 'good.' A hedonist may argue that 'pleasant' things are 'good' things. Other theorists may argue that 'complex' things are 'good' things. Moore contends that even if such arguments are correct, they do not provide definitions for the term 'good.' The property of 'goodness' cannot be defined. It can only be shown and grasped. Any attempt to define it (X is good if it has property Y) will simply shift the problem (Why is Y-ness good in the first place?). Moore's argument for the indefinability of "good" (and thus for the fallaciousness of the "naturalistic fallacy") is often called the open-question argument; it is presented in §13 of Principia Ethica. The argument hinges on the nature of statements such as "Anything that is pleasant is also good" and the possibility of asking questions such as "Is it good that x is pleasant?" According to Moore, these questions are open and these statements are significant; and they will remain so no matter what is substituted for "pleasure". Moore concludes from this that any analysis of value is bound to fail. In other words, if value could be analysed, then such questions and statements would be trivial and obvious. Moore contended that goodness cannot be analysed in terms of any other property. In Principia Ethica, he writes: It may be true that all things which are good are also something else, just as it is true that all things which are yellow produce a certain kind of vibration in the light. And it is a fact, that Ethics aims at discovering what are those other properties belonging to all things which are good. But far too many philosophers have thought that when they named those other properties they were actually defining good; that these properties, in fact, were simply not "other," but absolutely and entirely the same with goodness. (§ 10 ¶ 3) Therefore, we cannot define "good" by explaining it in other words. We can only point to an action or a thing and say

"That is good." Similarly, we cannot describe to a blind person exactly what yellow is. We can only show a sighted person a piece of yellow paper or a yellow scrap of cloth and say "That is yellow." In addition to categorising "good" as indefinable, Moore also emphasized that it is a non-natural property. This means that it cannot be empirically or scientifically tested or verified - it is not within the bounds of "natural science". Аргумент срещу скептицизма: He famously put the point into dramatic relief with his 1939 essay "Proof of an External World", in which he gave a common sense argument against scepticism by raising his right hand and saying "Here is one hand," and then raising his left and saying "And here is another," then concluding that there are at least two external objects in the world, and therefore that he knows (by this argument) that an external world exists. Not surprisingly, not everyone inclined to sceptical doubts found Moore's method of argument entirely convincing; Moore, however, defends his argument on the grounds that sceptical arguments seem invariably to require an appeal to "philosophical intuitions" that we have considerably less reason to accept than we have for the common sense claims that they supposedly refute.Moore is also remembered for drawing attention to the peculiar inconsistency involved in uttering a sentence such as "It is raining but I do not believe it is raining."—a puzzle which is now commonly called "Moore's paradox." The puzzle arises because it seems impossible for anyone to consistently assert such a sentence; but there doesn't seem to be any logical contradiction between "It is raining" and "I don't believe that it is raining." because the former is a statement about the weather and the latter a statement about a person's belief about the weather, and it is perfectly logically possible that it may rain whilst a person does not believe that it is raining.

Вигенщайн (ранна критика на философията)- език и свят: “The limits of my language means the limits of my world.” Wittgenstein seems to be saying that the essence of the world and of life is: This is how things are. In his early work, Wittgenstein thought that language was supposed to mirror reality. Anything that did not could be regarded as nonsense (E.g. ‘Is there a God?’). Светът е всичко, което е налице. Светът е сборът от факти в логическото пространство, не от неща; светът се разделя на факти. Всяко нещо може да бъде налице или не независимо от другите неща. Фактът е съществуването на положение на нещата. Положение на нещата е комбинация между обекти, а обектите са прости. Тоталността на положението на нещата е светът и следователно определя и кое не е. Какво може да се каже за света? Една пропозиция може да казва нещо за действителността единствено ако не е необходимо (не)истинна. Така се описват фактите, които са случайни. Това, извън сферата на фактите, включително необходимо положение на нещата, абсолютни ценности и априорни истини е безсмислено. Априорните пропозиции са изпразнени от смисъл. Образ на света е невъзможен, защото смисълът на пропозициите не зависи от това, дали други пропозиции са верни или не. Прости предмети -> състояние на нещата -> факти, чиято съвкупност е свят. facts (propositions) are essentially complex, that objects (names) are their simple constituents, that the latter exist in any possible statc of affairs (elementary proposition), that we grasp an object (name) only insofar as we grasp its possibilities for occurring in states of affairs (elementary propositions); propositions are complex; propositions describe possible states of aiFairs; whatever is pictured by a proposition is possible; a proposition agrees or fails to agree with reality; a proposition rcprescnts in virtue of its form (the form of a proposition is logical form); we cannot tell from a proposition alone whether it is true or false; there arc no propositions that are true a prioriОбразът е изоморфен, тоест има същата логическа форма като положението, което изобразява. Няма априори верен образ на действителността и следователно той трябва да бъде сравнен. Само емпиричните пропозиции имат смисъл. Субектът не принадлежи на света, а е граница на света. Невъзможно е светът да се познава извън опита.- казване и показване: The distinction between saying and showing seems to Conant to amount to nothing more than the dubious idea that there are thoughts-for example, thoughts about the logical structure of language-that language itself prevents us from expressing. A speaker who attempts to put these unsayable thoughts into words inevitably finds himself violating the bounds of sense: the logical structure of language itself precludes the possibility of describing it in language without violations of logical syntax. turns on the distinction between what is shown in the actual use of expressions and what is said in language, between what is grasped practically and what is known theoretically to be true. It is in seeing this order that we come to see that the philosopher's attempt to state what kinds of things exist, to treat logic as a system of truths in need of justification, to explain how language connects with the world, and so on is based on a misunderstanding. In the case of logical laws, their application is essentially prior to their formulation in the form of a law. Once we have language in use, we already have the whole of logic. We can see now that it makes no sense to ask whether the laws of logic are true or whether the world will conspire to make them usable: to think of the world is

already to think according to the laws of logic. This is not to ground logic in something absolute that is outside language-it is not in any sense to justih logicbut it is rather to recognize the status that logic has for language. There is no conceiving of the world as something to ud~ich the logic of our language might or might not apply. The idea that "logic pervades the world: the limits of the world are also its limits" (TLP 5.61) is not, therefore, a metaphysical claim about the necessary correlation of two systems-the world on one side and language on the otherbut it is a claim about the part of the order that we now perceive in our knowledge of the use of language. There is no proof that language necessarily fits the world, conceived independently of language: the world is mirrored in language; logical form is the form of reality. What is a priori is what shows itself in the use of language, and what shows itself has to do not with something that we know (that is, not with something that is true) but with something that we do. What is shown is something that is grasped and lived rather than known. It follows from this that what is shown cannot be given any foundation. All explanation, description, justification, and so n take place within the limits of what shows itself in the application of language. Ultimately all we can say is: this is what we do. we cannot understand Moore's claim to know, "This is a hand," as an empirical claim with true/false poles. Moore's words are shown rather to have the status of what Wittgenstein now calls a "grammatical remark:" they are in themselves empty (they say nothing about the world), but, like the propositions of logic in the Tractatus, they bear a distinctive relation to our practice of using language. These so-called propositions have a peculiar role insofar as they are an attempt to articulate something that is presupposed in our ordinary use of language, something that manifests itself in that use, that is essential to the sense of our words, and that, as masters of language, we already grasp practically. The shift is from a question of truth-"Does Moore know that this is a hand?"-to a question of sense-"Does it make sense to doubt that this is a hand?" We are rather brought to see that the realist and the idealist each attempt to answer a question that is unintelligible, a question about whether we are justified in our belief that our language applies to the world. To speak or think about the world is already to apply or use language, already to inhabit the language game in which language is functioning as a going concern. Това, което може да се каже е това, което е смислено да се каже. Смислените изречения са контингентните (тези, които могат да бъдат както истинни, така и неистинни). Контингентните изречения са емпирични, следователно смислените изречения са емпирични. Аналитичните изречения (тавтологиите и противоречията) са по необходимост истинни или по необходимост неистинни, затова са безсмислени. Необходимото не може да се изкаже, а само да се покаже в употребата. Логическото не може да бъде изказано смислено, но това не означава, че го няма. Всяко вътрешно свойство може да се покаже, но не и да се изкаже. Етическите и естетическите положения също могат само да се покажат. - логика и смисъл: априорните логически положения нямат съдържание, не са „неща на небето”. Смисълът се отнася единствено до тези пропозиции, които се отнасят до фактите. Логическото пространство, в контекста на логическия анализ на езика е пространството, в което се установяват фактите.

Късен ВитгенщайнАко значението не е предмет, усещане, идея, то какво е? Витгенщайн разбира, че хората се учат да употребяват думите не през правила, а употребявайки (значение = употреба на думата в езика, вместо съвкупността от правила). Проблемът за присъствието на една и съща дума, реферираща към различни неща се разрешава чрез установяването на семейната прилика, според която крайните членове могат да не си приличат. Правилата на употреба са в конкретната езикова игра. Езиковите игри са навици, тъй като се появяват като реакции в езиковото обучение. "To obey a rule, to make a report, to give an order, to play a game of chess, are customs (uses, institutions). To understand a sentence means to understand a language. To understand a language means to be master of a technique" (#199). The attempt to make sense of language through introspection misses an essential element of language, and that is that it is bound by varying sets of rules. We have to engage the rules, the conventions, that govern a word's use within a social context. This is not to say that we consciously have to be aware of the rules; they can be entirely tacit. We learn the customary use of language, the rules of the game, by "getting in the game," through example and experience: "A good ground is one that looks like this" (#483). This process of rule-enculturation is decidely a different task than that of interpretation: "[T]here is a way of grasping a rule which is not an interpretation, but which is exhibited in what we call 'obeying the rule' and 'going against it' in actual cases" (#201). An infinite justification of the rules renders the game meaningless, so neither are the essential and inessential always air-tight categories, nor need they be to "play the game." Съответно споразумението на хората за употреба се случва социално според целите, ценностите на общността, а не съзнателно. Характеристика на езикът е неговата интерсубективност, това, че той не е частен, че всеки език минава през социалното, разбрано ситуативно. В някакъв смисъл всяко владеене на език в езикова игра е „цял език”, тоест овладяване на ситуацията езиково е вече в тази цялост, а един език може да се състои дори от три думи: това срещу проблемите на холистическата теория, според която смисълът на езика е във владеенето на цял език, което не е реално.'Language games' are first described in remark 7 of the Philosophical Investigations and initially seem unproblematic,"We can also think of the whole process of using words in (2) as one of those games by means of which children learn their native language."[f2 ibid., remark 7. ] The playing of 'language games' are a necessary step in the learning of language, we learn to use a language through a variety of games, not least of which is the 'pointing and naming' game described by Augustine. But this simple conception explodes under further analysis. It seems that nothing could be simpler than pointing at an object and then naming it, in fact, it is supposed to be simple enough for young children to understand, but why do we expect the listener to immediately grasp our meaning? If we point at a table and say the word,'table,' we are referring to the whole class of objects known as tables of which this one is only an example, but it could be taken to mean that this particular object is called 'table' and no other. We begin to see that some foreknowledge is necessary for understanding, we need to know the role that 'table' will play in our language game. Wittgenstein highlights this by introducing proper names and numbers to his example language game, he asks how can we point at the number two? When two objects are pointed at how can anyone be sure that the word used for the number two is not the proper name for this particular pair of objects? It seems we must

already have some prior idea of what role numbers play in the language, but what is this prior idea? Wittgenstein discusses this by analogy with the game of chess, telling the chess player,'This is the king,' will only tell him anything if,'he already knows the rules of the game up to this last point.'[f3 ibid., remark 31. ] He goes on to ask how we might teach someone the game if they did not already understand what a playing piece was. The rules of the game and the meaning of,'This is the king,' have to co-exist, we cannot have one without the other. The rules do not precede the meaning and the meaning does not precede the rules. The meaning and the rules are so deeply intertwined as to be inseparable. We now see why the 'pointing and naming' cannot be the sole basis for learning language Each word has meaning in as much as it has a use in a particular language game, outside of the language game there is no meaning. It would be a mistake to search for meaning outside language because to go outside language is to go outside meaning. We can analyse a sentence in an attempt to find some essential meaning in it but all we do is translate into another 'language game', we do not derive some essence of meaning -because there is no essence of meaning. The lack of any absolute meaning may seem, at first, an unsettling prospect, we feel that words should refer to something concrete. We may examine our 'language games' looking for some essential or universal feature, some hard point on which to build, but, Wittgenstein says, this will be a futile search: Instead of producing something common to all that we call language, I am saying that these phenomena have no one thing in common which makes us use the same word for all, - but that they are related to one another in many different ways. And it is because of this relationship, or these relationships, that we call them all 'language'.[f8 ibid., remark 65. ] What we call language is a collection of 'language games' which are related, but not in a fixed way. Wittgenstein called these relationships 'family resemblances' because the similarities between 'language games' can be likened to the similarities between members of a family. It is the inherent flexibility of language that makes it such a powerful tool, we are not limited to one view of the world. In fact, there are no limits and can be none: For how is the concept of game bounded? Can you give the boundary? No ... You can 'But then the use of the word is unregulated, the 'game' we play with it is unregulated.' -It is not everywhere circumscribed by rules; but no more are there any rules for how high one throws the ball in tennis, or how hard; yet tennis is a game for all that and has rules too.[f9 ibid., remark 68. ] Wittgenstein points out that language games are a part of a broader context termed by himself—form of life. “…the ‘speaking’of language is part of an acitivity, or part of form of life” (PI (23)). So, ordinary or daily life is the home of language. Language is no longer a logical system vis-a-vis the experimental world; language and experience belong to the same world, and both of them are parts of ordinary life. The concept of language games points at the rule-governed character of language. This points out the conventional nature of this sort of human activity, rather than entail strict and definite systems for everyday and each language game. This suggests that Wittgenstein also emphasizes the nature of conventionality of language. In summary, Wittgenstein uses the term “language games” to mean: language is made up of various “games” which have their own rules; the “speaking” of language is part of an act or part of form of life. To understand the meaning of words, one not only needs to know the conventional usage of them but also to pay attention to their pragmatic use. Various languages are just similar to each other. Many pre-Wittgenstein thinkers (such as Nietzche, James, etc.) have rejected traditional philosopher’s “craving for

generality”. They hold that we cannot find something which all things have in common, but only some aspect of one thing is similar to that of another thing, each with its own particularity. However, it is not until Wittgenstein expresses clearly the concept of “family resemblance” that “family resemblance” becomes well-known to scholars. In PI (23), Wittgenstein presents us an astonishing list of “regular” language games (which inculdes, e.g. Giving orders and obeying them; Reporting an event; and so on), and Wittgenstein, looking without thinking, couldnot find something which all games have in common and concludes that all the members of the extension “games” share only a family resemblance, just as you share your father’s nose, but your mother’s eyes, and your uncle’s chin. Likewise, presumably, for language games, one language game is like each of two others, which are themselves basically unlike.For Wittgenstein, language could be used correctly or incorrectly within the rules of the game, but primarily it is non - cognitive and its primary purpose is not to make factual statements. All forms of life have their own language and are therefore separate to each other. For Wittgenstein, language was an anti - realist truth (one that is a truth held by a particular group and thus is meaningful to them without requiring verification or falsification)While Wittgenstein repeats that ordinary language is fine as it is, he also identifies the misuse of that language as the source of much philosophical confusion. Language is suited to its everyday business of facilitating communication between people. Philosophers make the mistake of abstracting language from its ordinary contexts to understand the essences of things. For example, when people talk about knowing things, in most contexts it is perfectly obvious what they mean. But despite the fact that we can talk about what we know without complication, we are puzzled when confronted by a question like, what is knowledge? All of a sudden, we are faced with an abstract concept, “knowledge,” divorced from the contexts in which this concept is used. When philosophers get confused over the question of what knowledge is, they are not confused because the essence of knowledge is difficult to identify. Rather, they are confused because they have abstracted a word from the contexts in which it has a function and find that, outside these contexts, the word loses its meaning. If philosophers were careful about how they use language, Wittgenstein believes, philosophical confusion would cease to exist. The correct approach to philosophical problems, according to Wittgenstein, is not to attempt to solve them but rather to reach a point where the problems dissolve of their own accord. The problems of philosophy, in this view, are in fact pseudoproblems. Where we think we perceive a problem, we are in fact caught in philosophical confusion. For example, in On Certainty, Wittgenstein attempts to unravel the problem of external-world skepticism, showing that the very question of how we can know that there is a world external to our senses only arises if we misunderstand the nature of propositions, such as “here is a hand”—in actual life, such propositions are not offered as knowledge that might be proven true or false. Wittgenstein’s approach is not to say that external-world skepticism is false but rather to show that the very question of whether external-world skepticism is true or false arises out of a misunderstanding of the language we use. If we absorb Wittgenstein’s teachings, we do not come to settled solutions to the philosophical problems that haunt us, but rather we reach a state where these problems cease to haunt us. What Wittgenstein seeks is not solutions so much as an end to theorizing. Wittgenstein emphasizes the difference between his philosophy and

traditional philosophy by saying that his philosophy is an activity rather than a body of doctrine. We can identify definite positions and theories in the writings of most traditional philosophers but not with Wittgenstein. In fact, Wittgenstein’s writings are distinctly antitheoretical: he believes that the very idea of a philosophical theory is a sign of confusion. He conceives of the role of philosophy as an activity by which we unravel the sorts of confusion that manifest themselves in traditional philosophy. This activity carries with it no theories or doctrines but rather aims at reaching a point where theories and doctrines cease to confuse us. In the Philosophical Investigations, Wittgenstein writes, “the work of the philosopher consists in assembling reminders for a particular purpose.” That is, his ideal philosopher works to remind those confused by abstract theorizing of the ordinary uses of words and to set their thinking in order. The clarity achieved through this kind of activity is not the clarity of a coherent, all-encompassing system of thought but rather the clarity of being free from being too influenced by any systems or theories. Wittgenstein scholars disagree as to whether his work ought to represent an end to philosophy. Certainly, his work has a conclusive feeling about it. In the preface to the Tractatus, he writes, “I am . . . of the opinion that the problems [of philosophy] have in essentials been finally solved.” If we wholeheartedly embrace his work, either the Tractatus or his later writings, we will no longer be able to speculate about the problems of philosophy as thinkers have done for the previous two and a half millennia. However, it is far from clear that Wittgenstein intends for all philosophical activity simply to cease. Rather, he seems to intend a new role for philosophy, as an activity of clarification. While the main target of this activity seems to be traditional philosophy, it would presumably continue to have a role even if everyone were to give up traditional philosophy. So long as we continue to think, we are liable to fall into intellectual confusion. While philosophy is a particularly rich source of intellectual confusion, no field of thought is free from confusion.

Куайн- холизъм и натурализъм: Following Quine, naturalism is usually taken to be the philosophical doctrine that there is no first philosophy and that the philosophical enterprise is continuous with the scientific enterprise (Quine 1981b). By this Quine means that philosophy is neither prior to nor privileged over science. What is more, science, thus construed (i.e. with philosophy as a continuous part) is taken to be the complete story of the world. This doctrine arises out of a deep respect for scientific methodology and an acknowledgment of the undeniable success of this methodology as a way of answering fundamental questions about all nature of things. As Quine suggests, its source lies in “unregenerate realism, the robust state of mind of the natural scientist who has never felt any qualms beyond the negotiable uncertainties internal to science” (Quine 1981b, p. 72). For the metaphysician this means looking to our best scientific theories to determine what exists, or, perhaps more accurately, what we ought to believe to exist. In short, naturalism rules out unscientific ways of determining what exists. For example, naturalism rules out believing in the transmigration of souls for mystical reasons. Naturalism would not, however, rule out the transmigration of souls if our best scientific theories were to require the truth of this doctrine.Naturalism, then, gives us a reason for believing in the entities in our best scientific theories and no other entities. Depending on exactly how you conceive of naturalism, it may or may not tell you whether to believe in all the entities of your best scientific theories. I take it that naturalism does give us some reason to believe in all such entities, but that this is defeasible. This is where holism comes to the fore: in particular, confirmational holism. Confirmational holism is the view that theories are confirmed or disconfirmed as wholes (Quine 1980b, p. 41). So, if a theory is confirmed by empirical findings, the whole theory is confirmed. In particular, whatever mathematics is made use of in the theory is also confirmed (Quine 1976, pp. 120–122). Furthermore, it is the same evidence that is appealed to in justifying belief in the mathematical components of the theory that is appealed to in justifying the empirical portion of the theory (if indeed the empirical can be separated from the mathematical at all). Naturalism and holism taken together then justify P1. Roughly, naturalism gives us the “only” and holism gives us the “all” in P1. It is worth noting that in Quine's writings there are at least two holist themes. The first is the confirmational holism discussed above (often called the Quine-Duhem thesis). The other is semantic holism which is the view that the unit of meaning is not the single sentence, but systems of sentences (and in some extreme cases the whole of language). This latter holism is closely related to Quine's well-known denial of the analytic-synthetic distinction (Quine 1980b) and his equally famous indeterminacy of translation thesis (Quine 1960). Although for Quine, semantic holism and confirmational holism are closely related, there is good reason to distinguish them, since the former is generally thought to be highly controversial while the latter is considered relatively uncontroversial.- критика на разграничението аналитично/синтетично съждение: The first dogma argues that there is a real way to distinguish between propositions that are analytic and propositions that are synthetic. The second refers to the empiricist claim that the meaning of a single proposition is its verification conditions. Think of it this way: "The sun is at the center of the solar system" - I know what it would mean for it to be true (the sun is at the center) and I know what it would be like if it were false (the sun would not

be at the center). Either way, there is a simple experience which confirms or confutes the proposition. Notice that some propositions, then, are meaningless (they have no verification conditions). The proposition "2 + 2 = 4" is not verifiable. No empirical circumstance confirms or confutes it (though some circumstances may exemplify or fail to exemplify it). These statements are taken dogmatically to be the "analytic" statements, and the suggestion (combining it with the theory of reductionism) is that (1) there are analytic truths, truths "grounded in meaning independently of matters of fact" and synthetic truths, truths "grounded in fact" that are entirely separate; and (2) that synthetic propositions are reducible to combinations of contents derived from experience (and thus verifiable by those contents). Analytic statements would be statements not so verifiable. So the two dogmas, Quine thinks, are related. As such, Quine will attack both. Quine argues in "Two Dogmas of Empiricism" that there is no clear argument supporting this distinction between analytic and synthetic sentences. That is, although some sentences appear to rely on nothing but logic and the meaning of language for their truth-value, no philosopher has been able to give a criterion which would clearly distinguish analytic from synthetic sentences. Quine suggests that this is because sentences have meaning only in reference to a larger body of knowledge. Thus, the first example above which states "Frozen water is ice" has been taken by philosophers to be analytic, but it actually derives its meaning from a wider body of knowledge about what it is to be frozen and what something is like in order for it to be classified as water. According to Quine, even a statement like this one, which seems to be true solely in virtue of the meanings of the words, relies on there having been some experience of the world in order for it to be meaningful. Here, he claims that there is no sharp distinction between claims that are true in virtue of their meaning (analytic claims) and empirical claims (claims that may be verified by facts). Assume that (1) “Necessarily all and only bachelors are bachelors.” (Quine, 1980: 29). That is, the word ‘necessary’ implies that this claim is logically true, and thus, it is analytic. Thus, if we assume that the words ‘bachelor’ and ‘unmarried man’ are interchangeable (in regard to meaning, not letters), then (2) “Necessarily all and only bachelors are unmarried men” is true, where once, again, the word ‘necessary’ seems to make this logically, that is, analytically true. And thus, once again, we needed to presuppose a notion of analyticity to define cognitive synonymy; “To suppose that [‘necessary’ makes sense] is to suppose that we have already made satisfactory sense of ‘analytic’” (Quine, 1980: 30).Quine’s final proposal to define analyticity without an appeal to meaning—and thus without appeal to synonymy or definitions as follows: We can try to assimilate a natural language to a formal language by appealing to the semantical rules developed by Carnap. However, Quine finds the same kind of circularity here that he has found elsewhere. To show why, Quine reconstructs a general Carnapian paradigm regarding artificial languages and semantical rules, that, broadly speaking, proceeds as follows:[1] Assume there is an artificial language L0. Its semantical rules explicitly specify which statements are analytic in L0.[2] A problem immediately surfaces: To extensionally define what is analytic in L0, the intensional  meaning of 'analytic' is presupposed in the rules, simply because “the rules contain the word ‘analytic’ which we don’t understand!” (Quine, 1980: 33) Although we have an extensional definition of 'analytic,’ we do not have an intensional definition, that is, we do not understand what analyticity means, regardless if we have a list of particular

expressions that are allegedly analytic. For instance, if I asked you to compile a list of things that are “smargon,” and you did, but you had no idea what the word ‘smargon’ means, you’d be in trouble—how could you even compile your list without knowing what ‘smargon’ means?[3] Perhaps though, one could understand the term 'analytic for L0' simply as a convention, calling it 'K' so it looks like the intensional meaning of the word  'analytic—' that is, a well-defined intensional account of analytic—is not at work anywhere. But, Quine asks, why the specific class K, and not some other arbitrary class, for example, L-Z? (Quine, 1980: 33) For instance, let’s say that I wanted to arbitrarily give a list of all things that are smargon, but I don’t know what the word ‘smargon’ means. So I create a list of things that just so happen to be green. But why did I pick just green things? Why not orange things, or things that had no particular color at all?[4] Let it be supposed instead then, that there is a kind of semantical rule that does not specify which statements are analytic, but simply those that are true. But not all truths, just a certain set of truths. Thus, one may then define “analytic truths” as those that belong to this set. And so, "A statement is analytic if it is (not merely true but) true according to the semantical rule" (Quine, 1980: 34). However (generally speaking), the same problem surfaces in terms of "semantical rule—" how does it specify which statements are to be included in the class of truths without in some sense presupposing the intensional meaning of the word 'analytic?' The circle is pervasive, and so: “we might just stop tugging at our bootstraps altogether” (Quine, 1980: 36). And thus, in 1950, Quine is confident that, perhaps once and for all, after nearly twenty years of intermittent discussion of the matter with Carnap and others, he should reject the notion of “analyticity.”- неопределеност на превода и неустановимост на референцията: When approaching the problem of understanding a word, there are two parts that must be taken into mind. There is the sound of a word, which can be referred to as the "phonetic part". In this part, an individual learns the proper way to vocalize the sound of the word. Then there is the more complex part of the word which relates to its actual meaning, and that is known as the "semantic part". When an individual speaks the word that he has phonetically learned, he then refers to something outside of himself. Usually this is a reference to an object, though it can also be a more abstract reference to an idea. When it comes to learning the semantic part, though, more is required than just hearing the sound. One must be able to "see what is stimulating the other speaker" (Quine 28). When words refer to abstract ideas, there can be a problem, because the meaning of words can be determined by an individual's mindset and experiences. Therefore, even when speaking the same language, two individuals can be speaking about the same thing but have a different idea of it in their minds and therefore not be able to fully communicate about it. Indeterminacy is something that can be seen even more apparently with differing languages. Quine uses the example of the foreign word "gavagai," which is uttered when a native speaker points at a rabbit. A linguist trying to understand the language has to decide whether the native speaker's utterance means "rabbit," "undetached rabbit parts," or "rabbit stages" (Quine 32). The problem is that in the native language, there may be a different system of reference than in our language, and so there may be words that mean more than one thing, just as we have words that can have an exact referential meaning and a more "abstract singular term" at the same time (Quine 38). While the physical

ostension that a native makes to an object when she says a word can be noted, it cannot be known for sure what she is speaking about without understanding the conceptual foundations that the language exists upon (see inscrutability of reference). Therefore, while translations can be inferred with a decent amount of accuracy, there is never a certainty that all meanings are understood in all contexts. Inscrutability of reference is a version of what might be considered extreme ontological relativism. It questions the very basis on which one can make any sort of ontological argument. Inscrutability of reference says that there is no possible way to completely understand any language, or what the speaker of a language refers to, even within one's own natural language. Inscrutability of reference argues that if an individual points to a rabbit, and utters a noise, there is no possible way to confirm if the individual is referring to the rabbit as a whole, a collection of 'undetached rabbit parts', or a spatiotemporal state of the rabbit. There is no universal pointer one can use to make a specific reference that will always be taken to mean the exact same thing no matter what society or language the listener is from (see: indeterminacy of translation). To this end, Quine dictates that any translation, meaning analysis, or in fact analysis of any kind is hopeless. He admits that, to the field linguist, these arguments are merely academic. The field linguist he says, would simply have to decide that what the pronounced word the individual made means rabbit, and exclude other possible interpretations. Otherwise, the linguist would fall into a sort of infinite regress, and would never be able to translate the foreign language, and perhaps even start to question his own.The general claim of the indeterminacy of translation is that there might be different ways of translating a language which are equally correct but which are not mere stylistic variants. The claim includes what one might think of as the limiting case of translation, that in which a given language is ‘translated’ into itself. For Quine, the criterion of successful communication, whether or not translation is involved, is fluent interaction, verbal and nonverbal: “Success in communication is judged by smoothness of conversation, by frequent predictability of verbal and nonverbal reactions, and by coherence and plausibility of native testimony” (1990, 43). Smooth communication certainly occurs, sometimes in cases where different languages are involved. That successful translation occurs is not cast in doubt by anything he says; his claim, indeed, is that it may be possible in more than one way. At this point we need to distinguish the two kinds of indeterminacy. Quine introduces the general idea of indeterminacy, in Chapter Two of (1960), without explicitly making the distinction but subsequently comes to treat them quite differently. The first is indeterminacy of reference: that there is more than one way of translating sentences where the various versions differ in the reference that they attribute to parts of the sentence but not in the overall net import that they attribute to the sentence as a whole. (This doctrine is also known as “ontological relativity” and “inscrutability of reference”.) To use an example which has become famous, a given sentence might be translated as “There's a rabbit” or as “Rabbithood is manifesting itself there” or as “There are undetached rabbit parts”, or in other ways, limited only by one's ingenuity. Something like this, Quine suggests, can be done systematically for terms referring to physical objects: each such term is translated as referring to all of space-time other than the portion occupied by that object; each predicate is translated by one which is true of the space-time complement of an object just in case the original predicate is true of the object. It will not help to ask the person we are translating whether she means to

refer to the family dog or to its space-time complement: her answer is subject to the same indeterminacy. The second kind of indeterminacy, which Quine sometimes refers to as holophrastic indeterminacy, is another matter. Here the claim is that there is more than one correct method of translating sentences where the two translations differ not merely in the meanings attributed to the sub-sentential parts of speech but also in the net import of the whole sentence. This claim involves the whole language, so there are going to be no examples, perhaps except of an exceedingly artificial kind. Indeterminacy of translation refers to the inability to ever fully translate the meaning of a word from one language to another. While this refers mainly to translation between natural languages, it can also refer to individuals using the same language trying to understand one another's full meaning.